The Sweetest Thing
by magpye
Summary: Bella is quickly on her way to being a married woman, but what happens when she questions her commitment? AU, AH, OOC. Rated M for future chapters. Nominated for Best Alternate Universe Human WIP at the Indie TwiFic Awards.
1. Church Goer

As we sat in the small office, I couldn't help but let my eyes wander around to all of the certificates and diplomas on the wall. Who knew a priest could be so highly decorated? I fidgeted nervously in my seat, tugging at the hem of my dress and hoped it wasn't too short.

_Nothing like coming across as whorish to a man of the cloth, _I thoughtnervously. 

"There's nothing to be nervous about honey."

I looked over at my cohort and smiled sheepishly. He squeezed my hand and I squeezed back as he looked at me reassuringly.

I looked at my watch and sighed. We'd been waiting for 22 minutes and I couldn't help but get antsy. I didn't really want to be here, but was unwilling to overlook the ugly looks I'd get if I hadn't shown up. I couldn't help but wonder what would really keep a priest tied up. Maybe it was an emergency exorcism. That sounded like something important and time consuming.

I looked over at the man holding my hand and smiled. I would go to church and be a good girl for him. He was worth it and I was happy to be what he wanted. I sighed contentedly and patted the top of his hand.

He looked up from his Blackberry and smiled kindly at me. He was happy too.

The door behind us creaked loudly as it swung open and a balding man with a paunch entered.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. There was a delivery issue with the upcoming rummage sale and I needed to get it sorted out."

Oh, so no exorcism then.

"No worries Father Stevens, I am so glad you are taking the time to meet with us today," he said as he shook the priest's hand.

"I wouldn't have it any other way. It isn't everyday that I get to speak with such an attractive couple. Please sit," he said as gestured to the chairs we had just stood up from. He rounded his desk and took a seat as well.

I smoothed out my skirt and sat down. I flicked my hair neatly over my shoulder and smiled tensely.

"Father, this is Isabella Swan, my fiancée."

The father reached across the shabby desk to shake my hand and I awkwardly stood/curtseyed to meet his reach. I had always heard people talk about Catholic mass being a sit/kneel/stand/repeat type event, but even meetings outside of the sanctuary were shaping up to be a mini workout. Maybe my ass, I mean butt, would tighten up with enough Sunday masses. I may even start going on Saturday's if things started firming up.

"It is nice to meet you sir, father, sir. And please call me Bella," I responded inarticulately. I felt a blush warming my cheeks. I didn't know exactly what to call him, but hoped I was at liberty to call him father. I didn't know if that was something only church members could do and seeing as this was the only time I'd been in a church in years…

"It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Isabella. I am glad that our parish's largest family is welcoming yet another member," he said as he looked fondly at my fiancé. I looked at him too and forced a smile. His family was like the fucking, I mean freaking, Kennedy's, nothing but money and pregnant women. I'm sure their tithes had the Father here resting comfortably with the nuns in the monastery. It was sort of creepy to hear him refer to me as 'yet another member.' It sounded a little Jonestown.

My groom and the priest exchanged more pleasantries and I listened to their comfortable rapport.

"Well kids, let's get to business. As you know, the marriage covenant isn't one that is entered into without much thought and consideration. I am very pleased that you are choosing to go through premarital counseling. There are many aspects of marriage that you don't consider until after the vows are taken. I like to think of this as an opportunity to air any issues and topics that may not have been discussed." He looked at me as he spoke and I couldn't help but think that he was seeing every naughty thing that I'd ever done. Hell, I mean heck, they were probably written all over my face.

_I'm a sinner. I've had sex already. _

_I get drunk. I curse like a sailor._

_I covet. I lie. I think dirty thoughts. _

I looked over at my well groomed groom and saw him looking intently at the priest as he prattled on about marriage and the church. I didn't see those sins on him. I saw sweetness and kind words. I saw sensitivity and thoughtfulness. I saw a man who loved me and the person I should strive to be.

_Focus. Focus. Focus._

"I always ask my couples the same question before we delve deeper into what marriage is and your answer is very important. I want you to be open and honest with yourself and each other when you answer," he paused and slowly moved his eyes between the two of us.

Shit, I mean shoot, I am no good at these honesty things. I'm no good on the fly. I can get a good and sincere answer together, but I rather prefer a day or two to mull things over. When he asked me to marry him, I thought about it for a day and got back to him. It was just another example of his unending patience and I appreciated it more than he'd ever know.

"I'm sure, Father, whatever you've got for us we can answer. Communication is one aspect of our relationship that we both take very seriously," he looked earnestly at the Father and again squeezed my hand reassuringly.

Who was he kidding? I never told him anything. Well, I do tell him stuff, but 97.83% of my conversations with him go on inside of my head. I think of it as avoiding unnecessary arguments and aggravation. Only 2.17% of the time do I actually spit out what I'm thinking. Don't get me wrong, we talk about stuff, I talk all of the time, but when we 'communicate' it is usually after I've had a few days to think it over and rehearse my answers.

In my defense though, I don't really tell anyone _all_ of my secrets.

See the problem is as follows: I know how wrong I am for him and his sweetness, but I want to spend the rest of my life being what he wants and needs. I want to be the perfect wife _for_ him and I want to work out my issues _with_ him. And if we have forever, then I have at least a few days in there to think out good and honest responses to important questions.

The priest pursed his lips as he prepared his question. My breathing quickened and I braced for what was coming.

What could it be?

Was he going to ask me how many men I'd been with and whether I'd ever fantasized about being with a woman?_ More than 5 but less than ten and yes._

Was he going to ask if I'd ever been unfaithful or if I'd done drugs? _Then I would have to ask if it counts if it happened in a dream and whether prescription drugs count. _

"I want you to think of the one thing that the other person could do that would cause you to get a divorce and ponder it for a second," the priest leaned towards us with his elbows on the desk and his fingers knit together.

My mind raced through various unforgivable offenses: being a serial killer, abusing me or our children, cheating on me more than once…

"Now, I want you to think of the one thing that could tempt you to leave," he stated simply.

Technically there were two questions, but I let it slide.

I thought of what could tempt me away from my sweet groom. It wouldn't be money, because that wasn't an issue. It wouldn't be lack of fun things to do, because he was always coming up with things for us to do. It wouldn't be security, because he had our life all planned out. Then it hit me and I immediately felt foolish. If Robert Pattinson asked me, I'd leave my groom for him. I almost laughed out loud at the prospect.

Father Stevens' slightly nasal voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Now if you've thought of anything, I don't know if you're ready for marriage."

_Say what? Was that like a cruel trick question? _

My brow tightened and mouth fell open, but I quickly attempted to play it off.

"I feel confident in saying that there is nothing that Bella could do that would be unforgivable and nothing that could tempt me away from her. I hope to answer for her and say that the feeling is reciprocal," he said from beside me. I felt his hand reach for mine, but numbed to his touch as he wrapped his fingers with mine.

I frantically prayed that my face held back the emotions that were spinning deep within me.

_I thought of a few things. _

I thought about my unspoken response and like 97.83% of the 'conversations' that my great communicator and I have, I nodded dumbly and sucked back a scream.

Father Stevens looked knowingly from my face to the grooms.

"Well Mike, I know that you and Bella are ready for this. You two are obviously meant to be together."

But, as my handsome groom leaned in to give me a chaste kiss on the cheek, all I could think about was how much a plane ticket to Hollywood would cost.


	2. Saints and Sinners

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

------------------

"You know Bella, I'm sure I could pull a few strings and reserve St. James' Cathedral for the ceremony. I know that they have a ridiculous waiting list, but I'm positive we could bump our way to the top and avoid an extremely long engagement." Mike pulled me close to his side as we exited the church.

"I would want nothing more than to be married to you as quickly as possible," he said in a hushed tone as he turned me to face him. I painted a pleased expression across my face.

_Please buy it_, I whimpered internally.

He must have because he smoothly pulled me into a tight embrace. It was a full body hug that reminded me how well we fit together. He was taller than me, but not in an overwhelming way. My head fit just into the crook of his neck and I instinctually placed a soft kiss onto his starched collar. I could feel him talking, the even reverberations moving into my chest, but I wasn't processing his words.

Did I really think that anything could pull me from this?

"_Well_, what do you think?" he pressed, oblivious to my lack of concentration. He held me at arms length and I looked into his blue eyes. I couldn't bear to tell him what I was really thinking – that I wanted to run away and not look back, but only if I could do it without hurting him.

"I think that that would be marvelous," I whispered and pulled him close for another kiss. I sighed and he mistook it for contentedness. I just didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise. We stood outside the church for a few more moments as he soaked in the enormity of what we were entering into and I feigned bravery and commitment.

------

It was Tuesday and work was slow.

It had been a week since the Father-with-two-questions-that-will-fuck-your-future Debacle. I still hadn't brought up the internal struggle that I was having with Mike. It was more than we could handle at this point. He had brought home a stack of wedding magazines last night and was heartily encouraging me to get to planning. I couldn't bring myself to even take them out of the plastic bag.

He was being overly attentive. This really bothered me and I couldn't figure out why. I wanted to tell him to untuck his dick and start acting like a man. I didn't enjoy the extra vagina around the house, but naturally I didn't. Instead, I hid myself in the bathroom with a hot bath and multiple bottles of Moscato. After an evening of drinking and minor panicking, I resigned to the fact that this situation was seriously fucked. I still didn't have a game plan outside of my Travelocity search for a one-way ticket to Hollywoodland.

"Getting excited yet?" a chipper voice pulled me from my haze. I looked up from my desktop and into the smiling face of my coworker Alice Brandon.

"Huh?" I asked confused. My head hadn't stopped hurting all day and I was in a delirious state of unrest. I rubbed my temples slowly and sighed.

"Are you excited about planning? I see you've broken down and bought some bridal magazines. Found a color scheme that you like?"

She picked through the pile of magazines and settled on what I assumed was the newest issue of Martha Stewart Weddings. It had an assortment of multicolored cupcakes arranged in a heart. My stomach churned, but I wasn't sure if it was the aftershocks of two bottles of wine on a relatively empty stomach or the sickening display of love splayed in Technicolor across the pages of the magazine.

"Oh, yeah. Those. Mike brought them home to me last night. He is eager for me to get started, but I think I'm going to let him take the lead. The last wedding I went to was in 1998 and I was 12. His mom would get a kick out of planning it anyway." I nonchalantly opened my desk drawer and pushed the pile of magazines into it.

The only reason that these things were even at my desk was because as I packed my things for work this morning Mike had shoved them into my bag. He suggested that I look through them on my lunch break. I put on my excited face, kissed him with as much fervor as I could muster at 6:39 in the morning and agreed. I was committed to being who he needed when I agreed to marry him and this was yet another display of that commitment.

"Girl, you're crazy. You can't let a man plan your wedding. It will end up being all browns and grays. The bridesmaids will have on halter tops and flip flops. And if your mother-in-law plans it, ugh, I can't even go there… this is one of those things you just have to do. Now come on, let's go down to the cafeteria and get to looking." Alice opened up the drawer I had just shoved the magazines into and heaped them into her arms.

"Alice, I really can't today. I have to get these graphics together for McMillian and get started on the web site. I'm swamped." I didn't even have the energy to fake it for her. I must have looked like a miserable motherfucker and I was slowly coming to the realization that I was.

She studied me for a second and I suppose the look on my face was encouraging her to just step off. She did and left me with little more than a promise to sit with me tomorrow and flag dresses that I liked.

I palmed my temple and squeezed my eyes shut. What was I going to do? I couldn't just continue pushing off the wedding onto someone else. I was going to be the one up there exchanging vows and doing the 'I do's.'

I just needed to get back to Mike. I needed him to wrap his arms around me and tell me that I wasn't crazy and he really had thought about boning Jessica Alba when the priest asked him about temptations. I needed to know that he was a nasty bastard that liked to dominate me in bed. I needed him to cuss me out for being a whore in college and tell me that he really did smoke weed at one of the haughty summer camps he attended when he was in 10th grade. I needed to know that the truths that I had suppressed for so long really didn't matter and that I could be whatever version of me I was that day and he would still love me.

I cracked one eye. What I_ really_ needed to do was take back these horrible magazines.

I realized that I was clicking my pen insanely and looked around my office paranoid.

_Did I say anything out loud?_

I didn't hear snickering coming from anyone and I straightened up in my chair. I was cool. This was cool. Everything was going to be cool. _Deep breaths._

I scrounged around in the garbage can underneath my desk and pulled out the plastic bag the magazines had been given to me in. I did an internal fist pump when I found that the receipt was still inside. I know taking back a magazine seems like an insane idea, but I found it to be rather therapeutic. I could handle planning a fucking, I mean freaking, wedding on my own. I didn't need a reformed prisoner to tell me what color ranunculus to use or whether I should use place cards or place mats.

I flipped over the receipt and tried to ignore the fact that he'd spent forty-five buck on six magazines.

_The Page on Pike_

I had heard of this bookstore. It was conveniently located just a block down from the office building Mike called home nine hours a day. Being an avid lover of bookstores, I was surprised to find that I'd never graced the establishment. For some weird reason, I felt like anytime I was in a bookstore my IQ shot up like 75 points. I would get overwhelmed by the possibilities the books represented. I mean where else can you learn Japanese, how to plant an herb gardening, and the art of tantric sex all at the same time?

I carefully slid the magazines back into the sack and placed them inside my bag. I stuffed the receipt into my wallet and turned off my desktop. Flinging my bag over my shoulder, I grabbed my Blackberry and shuffled out of the office.

The eight block walk from my office building to the bookstore was pleasant. The weather was unseasonably warm and the sun was just barely peaking through the gray clouds. Unfortunately, the weather did little to improve my sour mood.

I turned onto Pike Street and looked in the windows of the stores as I passed. Once I made it to The Page on Pike, I walked in and moved quickly to the cashier, receipt in hand. A stocky twentysomething stood behind the counter talking with what I assumed to be a customer on the telephone.

"No, we do not have that book in stock," she said curtly, "I can order it, but I'm not sure when."

_Aren't we helpful._

After a few more moments, she hung up the phone and looked up at me wordlessly.

"Ah, hi, I need to return some magazines." I handed the receipt to her and began to pull the sack of magazines out of my leather bag. She looked at me unenthusiastically and then down to the stack of bridal magazines.

"I'm sorry, but you can't return these."

"Are you sure?" I smiled, "I mean I've got my receipt and these were purchased yesterday. Can I at least get a store credit?" I bargained.

_Remember, you get more bees with honey than vinegar,_ I reminded myself.

"No, I can't be sure that you didn't use them and bring them back," she stated. Her dead eyes looked at me accusingly. I lost the smile and matched her gaze as I felt my heartbeat quicken. This was not the week to pick a fight with me.

"Are you kidding me? How can I use them?" I looked at her incredulously.

"They aren't Playboy's I can't take them to the bathroom with me and_ use_ them. Check the spines, they've never been opened." I pushed the magazines toward her. This bitch was going to take these godforsaken things back.

"Lady, I won't take them back. You're the one who bought these things anyway. Why don't you just take them home, cut out the pretty pictures and paste them into one of the wedding planning guides on aisle eight." She thrust the magazines back in my direction and sneered. She started to leave and I felt the blood drain from my face.

_Oh no, Emo bitch is going down._

"Listen, I did not even look at these damn magazines. I have my receipt and am in full accordance with your return policy. So help me, if you don't refund my money or give me a store credit, I will get your fucking boss and take your ass down." She spun around to meet my burning gaze, her own face twisted into a smirk, testing my resolve. So what if they were dumb bridal magazines, I didn't want them and she was going to take them back.

"I'm not kidding," I assured.

Without another word, the plump cashier turned on her heel and walked around the counter and disappeared into the rows of bookcases. A few moments later, her poorly dyed purple-black hair peaked around the corner as she shuffled towards the desk. I eyed her harshly as she approached. Her gaze was as cold as my own.

"He is coming, but don't count on getting your money back," she mumbled. She started to mutter something else, but was speaking too low for me to hear. I was able to make out something about bridezilla.

"Twat was that? I cunt hear you," I snapped smartly.

Yeah, I know it was adult of me, but it was that or throw something sharp at her. I've been trying so hard since Mike and I got engaged to straighten up and lose the sailor talk. I've even gone so far as censoring my inner monologues and it is killing me. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to do some therapeutic tongue lashing without being chastised for having such a 'foul mouth'.

Big girl just rolled her eyes and looked at me with an open mouth, saying nothing. I hoped against hope that she would push me further, but instead she just walked back in the direction of the bookcases.

I waited impatiently, tapping my fingernails against the countertop. There were a multitude of business cards, flyers for open mic nights, and restaurant menus stuck under a clear sheet of acrylic. Reading the menus made me hungry and I felt my stomach growl. I patted my belly and turned to see a few people had formed a line behind me.

I sighed and grabbed my damned magazines and moved to the vacant end of the counter. I looked around wantonly and tried to plan my defense strategy. Since when were people so hard on customer returns?

_Hee hee, I said hard on._

Another employee came to the register and began ringing people up. I briefly contemplated asking them to refund my purchase, but decided I'd get Emo in trouble. Yep, I'm a nasty bitch.

I leaned against the counter began rubbing my still pounding head. I guess I did go a little overboard with the drinking. It had been a while since the last time I'd passed out in the bathtub only to wake up in freezing cold bathwater with pruned appendages. I really should be more careful in the future; I'd hate to drown in a Jacuzzi.

"Mam, were you the customer with a question about a return?" a man's voice broke through my thoughts. I slowly turned my face up, careful not to move too quickly and make my headache even worse.

My breath caught in my throat. I completely lost my train of thought and my ears started ringing.

One word was repeating over and over in my head.

_Temptation._

He was tall with a shock of messy copper hair. He was wearing a kitschy t-shirt with a button down loose over top. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows which exposed his lean forearms. He wore a silly lanyard bracelet with silver beads on one wrist and a watch with a leather band on the other. My eyes raked over him and I felt a heat rise to my cheeks. His face was open and angular with a strong jawline, a perfect ski-slope nose and deep green eyes. A soft smile was set on his pink lips.

"Ah, yes," I stuttered before pushing the aforementioned magazines in front of him, "I don't want these anymore."

_Good one Bella. _

"Ok, and what seems to be the problem? Nancy said you needed to speak with me," he asked confused.

"Oh, right. She said I couldn't return them because they were used but I didn't buy them or look at them and can take a store credit," I stammered. I nervously began gathering my hair into a ponytail. It was one of those weird things I do when I get frazzled.

The look on his face made it clear that he wasn't following. I felt like Miley Cyrus, stuttering idiotically. I took a deep breath and attempted to regroup.

"What I am trying to say is that my fiancé bought them for me and I don't need them. I never looked at them and just want to return them. _Nancy_ here seems to think that I've made photocopies or something and won't refund my purchase," I explained and laughed nervously.

He smiled as he shook his head and I suddenly lost my thirst for vengeance against the dimwit known as Nancy.

"I understand. We do have a no refund policy regarding certain magazines, but they are of the more adult variety if you know what I mean," he grinned playfully and reached to take the magazines from their place on the counter.

I thought I was going to die. _Adult activities_. I felt a blush creep down my neck. I put a hand over the flesh exposed by my v-neck shirt in hopes of camouflaging the redness swelling over my breasts.

"Follow me this way. I'll take you in the back."

_Yes, yes sir you can. _

I followed closely behind mystery man as he sauntered expertly around bookcases. I took notice of his long frame and broad shoulders. His dark pants fell low on his hips and he wore brown leather boots that laced up the front. His clothes didn't match at all and yet he seemed irresistible all the same. He had that bohemian hipster appeal.

We made our way to the back of the store to a cash register in the far corner. He turned on the computer monitor and fumbled with the mouse, clicking around until he found whatever it was he was looking for.

I tried in vain not to stare at the man before me, but found myself loosing the battle. I absentmindedly ducked a hand into my purse to pull out my cell in hopes of appearing occupied while he got things sorted out.

"Did you say you wanted a refund or store credit?" he asked as he looked up from the screen. He was perched on a barstool behind the counter with one hand on the mouse and one hand on the stack of magazines.

"Uhh," I hesitated. If I got cash I'd have to leave now, but if I took a store credit, I could hang around the store and stare for a little while longer.

"A credit will be fine."

I reached to adjust my ponytail and my hand got caught in my hair as I brought it back down to my side. I flinched and tugged it down to find a few brown hairs caught in the setting of my engagement ring. It was modern platinum setting with a sparkling diamond flanked by baguettes. My heart sputtered in my chest.

_You slut. Not only are you tempted by a movie star in Hollywood, an unattainable movie star might I add, but now you're practically handing your panties over to a hipster in a bookstore._

I sighed dejectedly. Was I really handing my panties over? Nah…

"I'm sorry, this crap computer is struggling with the concept of a credit." He apologized, playfully landing a right hook on the side of the monitor.

I smiled and shook my head.

"No, you're fine. It has just been a long day, or rather week for that matter."

"Well, I apologize if Nancy was a bear earlier. Sometimes her signals get mixed. When she means to be helpful, she occasionally comes across as a bitch." He smiled sheepishly and tore a receipt from the printer.

"You've got forty-six dollars and eighty-two cents to play with. Best of luck, I know we've got plenty of wedding related reads around here." He handed me the receipt and stood up from the barstool.

"Oh, uh, no. I mean, I don't. I think I'll just be getting some biographies." I flushed again. He looked at me quizzically.

"Ok then. Biographies are right this way." He stood and began the trek to the front of the store. I must have come across as a lunatic. A pink blush emanating from between my breasts, wild eyes darting around nervously, and a mouth that could seem to form coherent sentences. I caught glimpses from other women in the store and decided that I my reaction to him was more of the rule than the exception.

He extended his arm indicating the section of biographies.

"Let us know if you need anything," he lowered his voice and leaned closer, "and by us, I mean me. Nancy may be less than helpful." He winked at me and I felt my heart stop completely.

"Pardon, Edward, I've got a question when you're done," a guy with suspenders interrupted my starefest.

_Edward: God of all things beautiful and tempting_

He looked at me and smiled that dangerous smile. I nodded dismissively and turned to the bookshelves in front of me. I studied the spines as I took deep breaths attempting to calm my fucking nerves.


	3. Stood Up

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight... at all.

* * *

I stalked pathetically around the bookstore for nearly an hour with no interruptions. I managed to nonchalantly follow _Edward_ through and around the shelves of books and magazines. We made eye contact once in Arts & Leisure and I listened in on a conversation he had with a coworker in Technology. My heart was _still_ thumping in my chest.

As I mindlessly flipped through _Skinny Bitch_, the quiet of the shop was interrupted by the chirp of my cell phone. I was on the receiving end of a few glares from the customers seated in plush chairs situated around the quaint store. I returned their glares sarcastically.

_What, we aren't in a library. _

I fished out my phone and saw Mikes number blinking on the screen. I quickly ignored the call and put the phone back in my bag. I zipped and snapped the purse closed, my fingers clutching the plush leather as if I were trying to keep something from jumping out. I felt guilty and rightfully so. I was skulking around a bookstore sneaking peeks at the hot sales guy and ignoring my fiancé.

_Get out of here. Now._

I heeded the good advice of my conscience. I spun on my heel towards the door only to come face to face with a t-shirt emblazoned with a picture of a cowbell on it. The words, 'I need more' were silkscreened below it. I couldn't help but smirk and managed to suck in a deep breath before I could stop myself.

_Vanilla and pipe smoke. _

"In a hurry?" the man whispered.

My head tilted back and my eyes caught his. It was Edward.

That same dangerous smile was set on his lips. I couldn't answer. What do I say? _Yes, I'm trying to get out of here and avoid doing something very bad with you. Something hot and exciting that would most likely upset the in-laws._

"You look guilty."

"I feel guilty," I responded, knowing he wouldn't understand the full meaning of my words.

"Up to no good?" he whispered again.

I felt unsettled by the breathy whispers.

What was this? Was that how this place stayed in business? Women could be sure to get the newest issue of Good Housekeeping and their fill of hot, sexy, whispering _Edward._

"Why are you whispering?" I questioned. My voice was a bit rougher than anticipated. I hoped he would read it as frustration.

"We're in a bookstore. You're supposed to be quiet," he smiled and cocked an eyebrow.

Yep, housewives from across the Seattle metro area could come to The Page on Pike and get their Harlequin fantasies realized.

_Take me, I'm yours. _

The feeling of his warm breath stirred sensations in deep within me. I tightened my stomach muscles in an attempt to stop feeling the arousal. I stepped back from him making the distance separating us more appropriate.

_Run away._

"Thanks for you're help today," I mumbled as I pushed past him on my way for the door. He turned around to follow my hasty exit. I threw a wave in his general direction and his head bobbed in response.

"Come back to see _us_," I heard him say.

I barely heard the intonation in the word _us_, but it was there.

For fuck's sake, it was there.

-------------

I spent the eight blocks back to my office talking myself out of a panic attack and repressing the dirty thoughts that begged to break free from the boxed up remains of my past. I had spent the better part of three fucking years slowly and lovingly packing away the things about me that we're not _appropriate_ for my relationship with my dear Mr. Newton. I wasn't going to let some salesman with good looks try to unpack all of that shit so he could get his commissions up.

I wasn't a housewife who needed saucy conversation with a stranger to get off. I had a fiancé who was more than capable of getting me off.

Thankyouverymuch Edward.

-------------

"Can you believe this weather?" Mike asked as he pushed open the doors leading to the balcony of his loft apartment.

It was unseasonably warm for Seattle in April, but who could complain.

I had just gotten home from work when Mike called inviting me for dinner at his place. I had looked longingly at my tub of piping hot bathwater and accepted his invitation.

_No, we don't live together and yes, it is a touchy subject. _

At present, we were seated on the posh patio set overlooking the Seattle skyline. A warm breeze floated around us and rustled the leaves of Mike's beloved ficus. A few dried leaves dropped onto the slate floor. I hoped against hope that when we were married he would allow me to give that damned thing away. You couldn't walk by it without a handful of leaves dropping off. I stared at the ficus begrudgingly.

_I won't be picking up after you for the next fifty years. _

"Whatcha thinking love?" Mike asked as he forked a piece of sweet and sour chicken from the takeout carton.

Without thinking, I told him.

"I hate the fucking ficus."

He huffed as he looked at the tree and back to me, a disdainful look twisted his features.

"You know I love that tree. I've been taking care of it for years now. And there is no need to talk like _that_." He picked up his glass of wine and sipped it, looking over the rim at me.

"Well, I don't think I can handle picking up ficus leaves for the next fifty years," I huffed, "And did you think that maybe I liked to talk like that?"

"Wow, what's the mood about?" Mike responded tersely. He was now stabbing his pieces of chicken with his fork.

"I just don't appreciate you telling me what to do," I said simply.

"Well, I wasn't telling you what to do and I don't appreciate you talking like trash," he barked. I felt the heat flushing my cheeks and breasts for the second time today; only at this moment it wasn't a desirable sensation. I drew in a deep breath prepared to let him have it, but I stopped. This wasn't a fight I was prepared for.

"This _trash _is going take a bath," I said coolly. I stood up from the table and grabbed the remaining bottle of wine and a glass in one hand and pointed at him with the other.

"Don't you forget, you're the one who asked this _trash_ to be your wife."

Wordlessly, I walked through his apartment and into the grand master bathroom. I stepped up to the exquisite slipper tub and began to draw a hot bath. I looked around the immaculate bathroom and took in all of its decadence. Money sure had its perks when it came to real estate. Mike's mom, Karen, had pulled out all of the stops when decorating. Every metal surface was gold; every bit of tile was the finest marble. The bath towels were of the highest quality cotton and even the bath products were some French import.

"Soon all of this will be yours," I muttered sarcastically.

I looked into the full length mirror and appraised myself. I was attractive and confident. My figure was soft and feminine. I had shiny brown hair that hung loosely just below my shoulders, a sweep of bangs hung just over my chestnut colored eyes. My clothes were designer and my shoes high priced. My makeup was always immaculate and my jewelry always real, I dressed the part well. Nevertheless, I was out of my league. I dressed this way because it made me look the part of Mike Newton's fiancée, not because I could afford it or particularly liked it.

I sighed and began to undress slowly. I checked the water and once it reached a desirable level, I slipped into its warm depths. I lay still letting the warm water soothe my mind. I hated that I couldn't be myself. I hated that I wanted him more than I wanted to feel like me on the inside. All of this _commitment_ was messing with my head.

Why couldn't I use four letter words?

Why couldn't I tell him about the asinine things I'd done in college?

Why did I have to worry about fine china and pearls and sterling silver tea sets?

Why am I not good enough?

I began sipping slowly from the crystal wine glass, but soon enough I was drinking the wine straight from the bottle. This was the good stuff and a buzz was swiftly blurring my good judgment. So much for thinking things through.

_If he wants trashy_, I thought, _I'll give him trashy. _

I'd go out there to his beloved patio with his beloved fucking ficus and yell at him in a naked, alcohol induced stupor. I'd air all of my dirty laundry, all of the sex, lies, alcohol…all of it right out there for the Seattle skyline to gobble up. What ever would the Newton's do if they found out their 'newest member' wasn't a virgin? I'd scream so loud, his uppity neighbors might even call the cops. Then I'd take a swing at him with the wine bottle…

I started to laugh as I pictured him using the ficus as cover.

A knock silenced my drunken giggles.

"Bella, can I come in?" Mike's apologetic voice rang through the cavernous bathroom.

I knew I should have locked the door, but maybe if I was quiet enough he'd get the hint.

The metal click of the door handle ended that train of thought. I heard his feet pad across the tile and I scowled at him when he appeared at my side. He opened his mouth to speak and I petulantly turned my face away from him. The wine was making my head swim.

"I'm sorry I said that, I shouldn't have..." he said quietly from beside the tub. His pitiful blue eyes pleaded with me to forgive him. I looked at him as he stood there. His face was softly tanned from his appreciation for the outdoors. His hair was blonde, short and stylish. He wore a light blue polo tucked into a pair of flat front khakis. He was the whole, neat package.

He handed me a wrapped fortune cookie and knelt at my side. It was his sort of white flag. I held the plastic wrapped treat in my wet hands, staring at it as if I were debating on whether or not to eat it. In reality, I was avoiding Mike's miserable gaze.

He should feel like crap for being rude and killing my buzz.

"I'm sorry Bella. I shouldn't have said that," he repeated. I nodded in agreement. He reached for my hand and for whatever reason I allowed him to take it. We sat in silence for a few minutes as I attempted to gather my hazy thoughts.

"I don't know why I can't say what I'm thinking around you."

It was a simple enough summation of my feelings at this moment. I felt desperation sink into the pit of my stomach. This was so much more than having a foul mouth. This was about me not feeling like I could be open with him about myself. It wasn't as if I had real secrets; I wasn't a murderer or a thief. There were just things about me he didn't know and it was eating away at me. It felt unfair, like he was going to marry someone he didn't know. I didn't want that to on my conscience.

My eyes caught his and I searched them for understanding. He broke my gaze and dipped his fingers into my quickly cooling bathwater. Pulling his hand out, he flicked water off of his fingertips. He reached a long arm over my knees and turned the knob to add warm water. The welcomed heat warmed my body and sent a flush to my cheeks.

"I don't know why you can't either baby," he said and cupped my cheek with his wet fingers, "You can tell me anything. Anything and everything."

I suddenly felt like crying because there was no way I could. I wanted to, but I couldn't.

I closed my eyes and bowed my head. Silent tears mixed with my bathwater.

He didn't get it. How could I tell him what I was thinking? I didn't even know what I was thinking.

"Kiss me Mike," I directed and he hesitated but followed.

He leaned in and put his warm lips to mine, kissing me slowly. I hungrily returned his kiss and wrapped my soggy arms around his neck. My fingers traced the straight hairline on the back of his neck as our mouths opened and tongues collided.

I needed him. I needed to feel his skin close and hot against my own. I needed it like I needed air. Desire was burning in my lungs and burning in my stomach. I pulled myself towards him, my wet breasts pushed against his chest. I scrambled onto my knees in the tub, slipping every few seconds. His strong hands came to rest on my lower back to steady me. Our kisses became more and more heated and relentless. I tugged on his lower lip with my teeth.

"Take me to bed," I pleaded. He stiffened and sighed, pulling his face from mine.

"Baby, I can't," he whispered, "We can't. We're waiting remember." He kissed me again on the forehead and got up from his knees. I steadied myself in the hot water and wildly blinked back tears.

"I need you," I begged. I needed to feel this. I needed to feel him. I needed him to be real and present and committed. I needed to know that what we had was tangible and not something that lived only in my mind.

He stood before me with a towel opened wide. He lifted his chin encouraging me to step into his embrace. I did, numbly lifting my body up from the water and into his open arms. He lovingly patted me dry. He wrapped the towel tightly around me and tucked a corner between my breasts, securing it there. His hands brushed up and down my arms.

"I'll give the tree up when we get married. I should have never insinuated that I wouldn't," he whispered and handed me back the fortune cookie he fished from the water. It was still dry.

And so we left it. We didn't make love that night, but if it was any consolation I wouldn't have to pick up ficus leaves for the next fifty years.

I was, however, going to have to pretend to be someone else.

-------------

I answered my phone breathlessly. It was Mike. We were scheduled for a lunch date. On the agenda was wedding venues. Internally I was dreading this, but I put up a good front. I had just pushed through the heavy glass doors of his office building when my phone rang.

"Babe, I'm going to have to cancel," he said apologetically. I could hear him rustling papers on the other end of the line.

"But I'm downstairs already!" I huffed into the phone.

"I'm sorry love, but I've had something come up with this new case and I can't step out. It has to be tended to today."

"Well so do I," I pouted. He chuckled.

"I know you do love, but I can't. I promise I'll make it up to you tonight. We'll have sushi…" he bargained.

I sighed and accepted his offer.

"Fine, but I want the spicy tuna for myself. No sharing."

"It's a deal. I love you."

"Love you too." I hung up the phone and checked my watch. It was only 11:30. I shifted my purse to the other shoulder and headed out onto the sidewalk. I mulled over my options for lunch. There were a few fast food places and a coffee shop nearby. I settled on an iced mocha and headed in that direction.

I had just about reached my destination when I caught sight of him.

Edward.

He was standing in the large picture window of The Page on Pike setting up a new window display. I wondered if his market research indicated that having a display featuring him on a chaise with a book would keep the place packed and sales up 1000%. My pace slowed and I debated going in.

_No. Bad idea. Very bad idea,_ my good judgment pressed,_ Then again, you do have a store credit…_

There was no sense in wasting Mike's hard earned cash, if I didn't use that credit, I would surely lose it.

Needless to say, bad judgment won.

I turned and approached the store's glass door. My hand stretched out to grab the handle. I almost had my hand on the knob when the sun reflected brilliantly off of my engagement ring. I dropped my hand to my side and turned to leave. I started to walk away when I heard a knock behind me.

Instinctively, I turned only to see the painfully attractive man in the window waving me back. He jerked his head as if to say get in here. I shook my head bashfully.

_I can't_, I mouthed. I pointed to my watch and shrugged my shoulders.

He pursed his lips and shook his head. He waved at me again and pointed at the door.

I hesitated for another moment and he stepped out of the window. Within a second, he was opening the door to me.

"Come on in. I've been wondering when you were going to use your credit." He was grinning at me like he could tell what he was doing to me. His powers of persuasion were strong. My ring was long forgotten.

"Oh, ah, I guess I do need to use that," I stammered. He held the door open for me and I found myself walking into the store.

It was relatively empty with only one or two people milling about. I walked in out of the doorway and came to a stop at the register. I turned to find Edward standing just behind me. His auburn hair was messy and unkempt, but in the most desirable way. He wore a long sleeved green plaid shirt with mother of pearl buttons, a pair of tortoise shell Ray-Bans were tucked in his front pocket. The sleeves were again rolled up to his elbows and he wore the same watch and bracelet. A pair of dark rinse blue jeans hung loosely from his hips and the familiar brown boots completed his outfit.

I tore my eyes from him and feigned interest in the nearest display of books on organic farming.

"See something you like?" he whispered seductively. My eyes fluttered as he spoke and I was thankful that my face was turned away from him. I caught myself being pulled into his little sales trap.

_Not going to happen._

"What's your deal man?" I questioned harshly. My eyes lit up and I felt a flush redden my cheeks.

I wasn't going to let myself be dazzled into buying books, magazines, or sex.

"What do you mean?" he asked coyly. He cocked his head and his eyebrows knit together in mock confusion.

"You know what I mean, _see something you like,_" I mocked sarcastically, "Who says that? It might work on your Stepford Wives, but not on me. I am immune to sexy sales pitches." I huffed and crossed my arms defiantly.

He started to laugh and it was so intoxicatingly beautiful I almost cried. He put a hand on my shoulder and I inadvertently leaned into it.

"I just wanted to know if our selection of books was acceptable. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable," he spoke sincerely. His perfect lips were curled into a sweet smile. He gave my shoulder an almost imperceptible squeeze and dropped his hand back to his side.

I immediately felt foolish. Even if he was playing on my weaknesses and acting coy to throw me off his trail, he was an expert and I almost felt it an honor to be played so well.

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry."

_And we're back to one word sentences. _

"I'm Edward by the way, owner and proprietor." He stuck out a hand for me to shake. I eyed it suspiciously, but shook it anyway.

"Bella. Nice to meet you." I reveled in the feeling of his cool skin against my own. I hope my hands didn't feel clammy to him. There is nothing worse than a sweaty handshake.

"Well, Bella, what brings you to me today?"

_The prospect of hot sex with you sir, naturally._

"I, uh, well, my lunch date cancelled and I've got time to kill," I answered honestly. I immediately felt like a loser. I bet he didn't get stood up. _Ever_.

"Ah, I hate to hear that. Are you hungry?" he checked his watch, "It's time for me to pop over and grab a bite. You're welcome to join me."

_Oh no, go home, go to work, go to the gym._

He could see me hesitating.

"It won't be a date. Simply two people keeping each other company. I'll even make you pay for your lunch," he said smiling. His green eyes were sparkling and little flecks of light shimmered off of his mother of pearl buttons.

Mike would be upset about this, but it _was_ his fault that I was in this situation anyway. Besides, maybe lunch with this guy will make him less desirable. The conversation will probably be boring filler. Just because you own a bookstore doesn't mean you're intelligent.

"Sure, why not," I said with a shrug. He clapped his hands and smiled brightly with my acceptance. He pushed himself off of the counter he was leaning against and walked past me.

"Nancy, I'm going next door for lunch. I'll be back shortly. Behave dear."

I looked around for my best friend Nancy and saw her nearby restocking books. I half expected for her to stick out her tongue or something, but instead she just looked at me smugly. Edward didn't seem to notice though. I guess he was immune to her evil ways.

"After you," he said from the door that he now held open. I clutched my bag tightly to my side and stepped through the door. I walked up a few steps and waited for him to lead me to where we would be dining.

_Don't make this into a big thing_, I coached myself, _it's nothing until you make it something. _

I took a deep breath and turned toward him. He stood there squinting in the sunlight, reaching to slip on his Ray-Bans. I wanted to sink into the concrete beneath my feet. What was I doing?

His fingers fished into his front pocket again and retrieved a pack of cigarettes. He began to pack them against the heel of his palm, sunlight flickered from the face of his watch. The filter of a cigarette peaked out of the soft-pack and he offered it to me. I declined with a nod and he bent his head questioningly.

"Do you mind?" He asked.

"No. Please, ah, enjoy." I waved my hands dismissively and smiled to further prove the point. He took the cigarette between his lips and cupped a hand over his lighter to light it. He took a slow pull and blew the smoke out of the corner of his mouth, away from me. He tucked the pack and lighter back into his pocket. I watched his smooth movements carefully and unapologetically.

"So, Bella, what are you feeling like today?" he began walking down the busy sidewalk and I matched step to keep up. I still clutched my bag protectively across my chest and my high heels clicked with each stride. I couldn't help but enjoy the way he said my name.

"Well, I don't know. What's good in these parts? I was resigned to having coffee for lunch, so whatever you suggest will be better than that I guess," I rambled nervously. I allowed myself to take a peak at him as I spoke. He was devastatingly handsome.

_What are you doing? MIKE! MIKE! MIKE! _

"Ok then, pizza it is," he smirked and I could make out a perfect row of white teeth.

We continued walking in near silence, save for the occasional 'excuse me' or 'sorry' when we bumped together avoiding the oncoming sidewalk traffic. He slowly worked on his cigarette, savoring each drag with a painful degree of sensuality.

"This is the spot. Best pizza in Seattle, hands down," he pointed to an unmarked storefront and I was hit with the mouthwatering aroma of cheese and dough. He again opened the door for me and I laughed tensely.

"I'll order, you go ahead and grab a table."

I assessed the room and found a table in the least romantic area. He may not be taking me on a date, but I didn't to give of the appearance of one anyway. I took a seat and shrugged my light jacket off of my shoulders. I straightened my shirt sleeves and ran my fingers through my hair.

Edward leaned nonchalantly against the metal countertop as he placed our order. He happily conversed with the guy making pizza. He must frequent this spot. He would occasionally look over his shoulder and throw me a nice smile. Each time he did, my breathing hitched and I found myself growing uncomfortable.

I looked around the pizzeria to avoid his friendly eyes. It was small and charming with tan walls and stained concrete floors. The tables were round and tightly packed into the small space. There was a beverage cooler nearby and it buzzed rather loudly. This was probably a fun place on the weekends.

Edward was making his way back over to me with two bottled waters and a plastic number on a metal stand. He placed the items on the table and ran a hand through his wonderful hair. I wanted to do that, just once. Just to feel if it was as silky as it looked. He sighed and sat down.

"So, are you going to lighten up or am I just going to have to entertain myself during lunch?"

"What?" I asked incredulously.

"You're sitting there stick straight with your purse on your knees. Relax. It's ok. You can set it on the ground. I know no one's gonna steal it," he smirked as he cracked open his water.

I imagined what I looked like to him. We were eating at a pizza dive and here I was dressed to the nines in couture, complete with gaudy pearls and a ridiculous diamond ring. Who had I become?

"I know," I whispered embarrassed, "I just feel out of my element." I sat my bag down on the floor beside my chair.

He looked at me sympathetically and took a swig of his water. His green eyes flickered over my body and I felt a flood of conflicting emotions wash over me. Part of me wanted him to continue his open examination and part of me wanted to put my jacket back on. I shifted in my seat and attempted to relax.

"What _is_ your element Bella?" He inquired, searching my face for an answer when I didn't speak. I didn't have an answer at that moment. I had been doing so well conforming to Mike's world of money and power that I'd sort of lost who I was. I had always felt like I was holding onto the old me, but as I sat here looking and feeling completely out of place I realized that I hadn't done that great of a job.

"I don't know anymore," I sighed. I grabbed the bottle of water that was in front of me and twisted the cap off. "I used to have one, but now, now I'm sort of in limbo."

"Hmm," he paused, "And here I was thinking that you had it all figured out."

I scoffed and shook my head. If he only knew.

"Why would you think that? I don't have anything figured out."

"I don't know," he shrugged, "You just give off that vibe. I mean look at you, you're all put together and shit." A guy from the kitchen walked over with our pizza. He laid it down and handed us a few paper plates and napkins. Edward nodded in appreciation and grabbed a slice. He dropped it to his paper plate quickly and started licking his fingers.

"Shit's hot," he warned. I slipped a paper plate under the edge of the pan and carefully slid a piece for myself. I fought the urge to ask for a fork and knife and just fanned the pizza with my napkin.

_Damn etiquette courses._

"I'm a wreck actually," I sighed.

Why was I telling him this? What did I expect him to say? Was this appropriate lunch chat? My mind was a flurry of questions.

"What made you this way?" he asked, his voice heavy with sincerity.

I thought for a moment and without hesitation answered him.

"I failed the first part of my premarital counseling."

He laughed richly and I felt slight indignation as a result.

"How'd you manage that? I didn't know it was a pass/fail sort of program."

Was I really about to go into this with the guy from the bookstore? I sucked in a shallow breath and decided that I was. This is what the old me would do. Open book, no strangers.

"We were asked if there was anything that could tempt us away from our spouses and I came up with something. He didn't," I answered simply. He scoffed and took a swig of his water.

"He is a liar. We are creatures driven by our baser instincts. Everyone has a temptation," he replied, rolling his eyes and taking a bite of pizza.

I felt comforted by his response. It seemed to validate my feelings and I felt less like a villain. I decided to keep this going. Edward was making me feel better.

"I've completely changed who I am for him. I don't dress like I used to, I don't talk like I used to, I can't tell him about the person I used to be," I blurted, shoving the pizza into my mouth.

"Who were you?"

"I guess I was Bella Swan, human being. Now I'm more like Bella Swan-Soontobe-Newton, robot." I laughed.

"Well, stop being a robot."

"If only it were that simple, he doesn't like it if I'm not who he knows."

"Well, do you like who he knows?"

I pondered his question for a moment. I knew the answer, but had spent countless nights rewriting it.

"I used to, but the more time that goes by, the more changes that I make, I find myself resenting that person."

"Give him a chance to. Try telling him and being the real you. He may lie to priests, but he may also love you," he winked.

"Yeah, sure…I'll do that." I rolled my eyes sarcastically.

"No, you can. You need to, if not for him, for you. Practice on me… I'll listen."

I looked at him warily. His eyes were deep and sincere.

"I can't."

"Sure you can, we don't know each other, and I can't judge you." Edward's voice was soft and encouraging.

He reached across the table to where my hand was balled up around my napkin. His thumb brushed my blanched knuckles testing for a reaction. The only reaction I could supply was to sit completely still. He reached over and cupped his warm hand over mine. My heart pumped erratically.

I let my head duck down towards my lap. Did I feel that? I ruefully looked at Edward's face, my eyes pouring over his creamy skin, before I pulled my hand into my lap. His hand didn't move back to his side of the table as I'd expected.

"Just try."

I bit my lip nervously. I searched his face malice, but found none.

"Mike," I started feebly, "I've not been honest with you. I've not been myself with you."

His eyes pushed me forward.

"I don't feel worthy of you and, and your status. You're good and honest and generous. I'm not. I get mad and I curse and I lie. I don't want sterling silver or pearls. I don't want a membership to the Country Club or posh dinner parties. I just want you and me, love and commitment. I'm drowning in the Emily Post propriety and Cartier jewels."

I took a breath and he was still listening, his features urging me on.

"I am scared that I'll be a terrible wife. That I won't want to have as many children as is expected. That I won't cook well enough, or be sociable enough, or know enough about interior design. I...I…I… I know I love you, but is that enough?"

Edward opened his mouth to answer but I shook my head, "Rhetorical."

I closed my eyes and searched for the words that corresponded with the feelings in my heart.

"I've done drugs Mike. All recreational so don't worry about getting HIV from me. No needles," I smiled sheepishly, "I get a weird high from using four-letter words. I'm not a virgin, but you knew that. What you didn't know is that I've had seven partners, not two like I originally said. I'm sorry for the lie, but I never said I was perfect. Well, not in so many words at least."

With each admission, Edward's face stayed even and focused. His forehead never creased in judgment, his eyes never tightened with disdain. It was the face I hoped that Mike could wear, but not one I expected him to keep.

"I just want to be the best for you, but I don't understand why the real me can never stand up to the one I feel like you need me to be." A tear streaked recklessly down my cheek.

I looked into Edwards deep green eyes and willed him to tell me what I needed to hear. It didn't matter that he was a stranger I'd never held a real conversation with. It didn't matter one bit.

He was silent, emotions flashing across his features.

And then he spoke.

"Bella, you'll be a fine wife," he spoke softly, "We can order takeout for as long as you like, until you feel comfortable in the kitchen.  How many kids do you want? Then that's how many I want. I've got no expectations outside of you loving me, needing me, and supporting me. Paint the walls white, I don't care. We don't have to have any dinner parties. I'll eat dinner with you alone forever."

His hand beckoned for mine and I acquiesced, my small hand fitting warmly into his.

"What do you want if you don't want pearls and silver, because you can have it. If you don't want to play golf at the Country Club, then we'll play basketball at the Y. Whatever you want. If you like to cuss, lay it on me, just go easy around my mom," he winked and continued, "If you feel the need to lie, just make sure you never lie to me about who you are, what you want, or how you feel. Because if we're honest about that, you may surprisingly find yourself not needing to. I promise to love you, Bella, I promise to need you and to want you, but only if you're real with me. Be real for me."

Edward was silent. His fingers still wrapped around mine.

This stranger, this bookseller with the Ray-Bans and mother of pearl buttons, just told me everything I'd ever wanted to hear from one man in my entire life. My heart was soaring and tears were pouring down my face and I didn't care.

I didn't care that I'd probably never hear them from my fiancé.

The one person who I needed to say them.

* * *

Well?


	4. Things We Normally Do

**I'm trying something a little different. Some sections of the chapter have songs listed at the beginning. Consider it a little playlist. **

**Enjoy and remember I don't own anything. SM does.**

* * *

**Edward.**

"Nancy, do we have any more hardcover copies of _The Outliers_?" I called out. The store was desolate today, so I took the opportunity to reset the window display. I was standing awkwardly in the large window, straddling a low bookcase and shoving our bestsellers into neat rows.

"I've got one behind the counter," she trudged over and handed me the book. I stuffed it into the display and cautiously stepped back to admire my work. I caught a glimpse of a customer approaching the door and looked over to see _her_.

I didn't know her name, but I'd thought about her a few times in the days since she'd returned all of her wedding magazines. She was a stunner. Way out of my league, but too good looking for her own well being. She attracted even riff raff like me.

She was not particularly tall, I'd guess about 5'5" and always wore expensive looking clothes. She had deep brown hair that hung in soft curls down her shoulders. Her round face was soft and open, her dark brown eyes innocent and yet strangely conflicted. Her pink lips were always set in a self-conscious pucker.

She was standing at the door staring at the knob. Her hand was reaching for it and suddenly she turned to leave. Without my permission, my hand shot out and gave two raps on the pane of glass. Her brown hair swung around and then I saw her face. She looked somewhere between scared and relieved.

I jerked my chin indicating she should come in, but she just shook her head.

_I can't_, she mouthed. She pointed to her watch and shrugged.

A slow blush made its way to her cheeks. This was something I was finding to be trademark. The last time she was in the store, I'd tried all of my usual charms to get her to shop here. They seemed to do little more than fluster her to the point of leaving.

I'd have to ease up.

I shook my head, _you're not getting away this time. _I waved again and pointed at the door.

She hesitated for another moment and I knew we were going nowhere. I carefully stepped out of the window and opened the door to her.

"Come on in. I've been wondering when you were going to use your credit." Her face flashed with an indecipherable emotion, but soon enough a shy smile made its way to her lips.

"Oh, ah, I guess I do need to use that," she stammered. I held the door open for her and she walked slowly to the counter. I looked around for Nancy, not really wanting to deal with her attitude at this moment. She was a good and dependable employee, but she could be rather _opinionated_.

I watched her as she came to a stop at the messy counter and made a mental note to straighten it up after she left. She wore a khaki colored trench coat that fell to her knees. Her figure was hidden save for the nip of her waist and swell of her hips.

She slowly turned to look at me, her eyes assessing me openly, and I couldn't stop myself.

"See something you like?" I whispered. I attempted to tone down the sultriness that had been my best selling tactic, recalling her abrupt exit the last time we'd spoken. I wanted to get to know this one a bit more. She bashfully turned to look at our books on organic herbs.

_She's avoiding me. _I stepped closer to her.

"What's your deal man?" she snapped. I didn't expect that.

I immediately regretted being so manipulative. She turned her head to look at me. Her face was again flushed, but the look in her eyes said with anger instead of embarrassment. I tried not to notice the sexy way her hair fell down her shoulder.

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to down play my words.

"You know what I mean, _see something you like. _Who says that? It might work on your Stepford Wives, but not on me," she stuck her thumb to her chest, "_I_ am immune to sexy sales pitches."

She was pouting.

_God she's cute. _

I laughed out loud and put a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to defuse the situation. It would either work or I'd have a weird sexual harassment suit on my hands. I held a bated breath and hoped she'd at least smile. I bit back a grin when she did more than that. She leaned into my hand.

"I just wanted to know if our selection of books was acceptable. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable," I beamed. She was looking at me as though she wanted to believe me. I squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry."

_And we're back to one word sentences. _

"I'm Edward by the way, owner and proprietor." I stuck out a hand for her to shake. She eyeballed it as if it were going to bite her, but placed her small hand into mine anyway. I couldn't help but notice the sparkler on her ring finger.

_That's not fake. She is completely off the market. To a rich dude nonetheless._

"Bella. Nice to meet you."

She was warm and soft, just as I'd expected. Her hand trembled the slightest bit and I wondered if I made her uncomfortable. I knew I laid the charm on strong, but my advances were always so well received from the other female patrons. I ran a hand through my hair nervously.

"Well, Bella, what brings you to me today?"

"I, uh, well, my lunch date cancelled and I've got time to kill," she sputtered.

_She got stood up? What an idiot._

You couldn't ignore her good looks. Even though she apparently had an issue communicating effectively, it was almost an endearing quality.

_She's hungry… you're hungry…. 1+1=2, Edward…_

"Ah, I hate to hear that. Are you hungry?" I flicked my wrist to check the time on my watch. I had at least two hours before Jasper would be around to hound me about stock.

"It's time for me to pop over and grab a bite. You're welcome to join me." I attempted to be as unimposing as possible. I knew she had a fiancé, she'd mentioned him before and the rock on her finger was a clear indication that she was definitely someone else's claim.

Her eyes faltered and I could tell she was fighting an internal battle.

"It won't be a date. Simply two people keeping each other company. I'll even make you pay for your lunch," I said smiling. She searched my face for foul play and found none.

"Sure, why not," she said with a shrug. I smiled. She chewed her lip nervously. I hope I wasn't putting her into an awkward position. She could have turned me down. I had been turned down before.

"Nancy, I'm going next door for lunch. I'll be back shortly. Behave dear." I walked towards the door expecting Bella to follow me, but she stood steadfastly near the register. She peered around the store for a moment, looking at everything and nothing all at the same time. What was going on behind those chocolate eyes?

"After you," I said from the front door. Her brown curls bobbed as she turned her head to find me. A slight smile lifted her cheeks and she stalked forward clutching her purse across her chest.

I couldn't help but feel a little off put by her behavior around me. I know I'm unkempt, but the way she held her shoulders, her lips – they all told me she was scared. I could only hope it wasn't fear of me.

We walked out into the atypical Seattle sunlight. She stood, teetering on her high heels, facing me. Still tense and frightful. Out of habit I reached for my cigarettes, hoping for quick stress reliever. I packed the carton and began to take one for myself. _Be a gentleman_, I reminded myself. I held the pack out for her to have one. She declined and I felt like I might have offended someone as polished and poised as her. Folks like her probably smoke Cuban cigars or those French cigarettes, not Camels.

"Do you mind?" I asked nervously. I should have asked her first, but it wasn't my typical routine. Everyone I knew smoked.

"No. Please, ah, enjoy." She smiled sweetly and I didn't believe her. I cocked my head questioningly, but she started to wave her hands dismissively like it was no big deal. I took her for her word and took a long pull. The quick burn felt refreshing.

"So, Bella, what are you feeling like today?" I began to walk towards Donucci's Pizza, hoping she'd be up for something like pizza. I was trying to be myself, but something about this uptown girl had me spinning. My charms were seemingly ineffective (or at very least they had the opposite effect) and all I had to stimulate conversation was my slim knowledge of current events and endless Jeopardy trivia.

"Well, I don't know. What's good in these parts? I was resigned to having coffee for lunch, so whatever you suggest will be better than that I guess." She was nervous and it was cute.

"Ok then, pizza it is."

I walked slowly, giving her time to keep up. Her high heels looked dangerous.

_In more than one way._

"This is the spot. Best pizza in Seattle, hands down," I pointed to Donucci's banged up door before swinging it open for her. She laughed tensely and I again questioned my choice.

_Calm down man, you're not here to impress anyone. _

"I'll order, you go ahead and grab a table," I ushered her towards the tables and slipped my sunglasses back into my pocket. I walked over to the stainless steel counter. Teddy greeted me warmly.

"So Edward, when am I going to get Giada's new cookbook?" I smiled, he cut straight to business.

"The shipment should be in next week. I'll get it to you as soon as I can get my hands on it."

"Good, good. So what are you going to have today? A calzone? Or maybe baked Spaghetti? It has been a while since you had that." He wiped his hands on his apron and untucked a pencil from behind his ear.

"Well, I need your sage advice," I leaned towards him, dropping my voice a bit, "See that girl over there," I jerked my head in her direction. He nodded, a mischievous grin spread across his face.

"What does a girl like that like on her pizza?"

He squinted his eyes assessing Bella as she sat down and took off her jacket. I peeked over my shoulder at her and smiled. She flushed and started studying the restaurant.

"She is a Hawaiian type of girl. Pineapple and ham. Most definitely," he nodded assuredly.

"Well, then that's what I'd like to order. And two waters."

He grabbed two bottled waters from a tub of ice behind the counter and wiped them off with his apron.

"Tell me Edward, this girl, is she your new girlfriend?" Teddy asked, his face playful again. I laughed out loud.

"Even I'm not that good, Teddy."

I turned and began walking towards the table. I watched Bella intently as I walked. I couldn't deny that I didn't like the idea of her being with me, but judging from the expression wrought over her features, my company was something she did not desire. Everything about her screamed discomfort. I sat the bottles down and raked a hand self-consciously through my hair.

_This is going to be a long lunch._

"So, are you going to lighten up or am I just going to have to entertain myself during lunch?" I twisted the cap off of the bottle and put it to my lips. I raised an eyebrow and waited for a response.

"What?" She asked, eyes round and lips parted in disbelief.

"You're sitting there stick straight with your purse on your knees. Relax. It's ok. You can set it on the ground. I know no one's gonna steal it." I was smirking in an attempt to disguise my own uneasiness.

I wouldn't have taken her somewhere she would be unsafe. Donucci's is like the kitchen away from my kitchen. I love it here and a little piece of me though she might like it too. I waited for her to respond at all. She sat across from me, but miles away. Her eyes dropped to her lap and she let out a long sigh. She slid her bag to the floor.

"I know," she whispered embarrassed, "I just feel out of my element."

Suddenly, empathy washed over me. I knew exactly how she felt; the only difference was that I didn't wave my feelings out in the open like she did. I felt my face falling and quickly took a drink of water to regroup. I couldn't control my eyes as they roamed over her newly exposed clothing. Her jacket had been covering up a soft white shirt. It was feminine and sheer with tiny white buttons. It had silly little ruffles on the sleeve and collar. Her shirt ducked into the waistband of a navy skirt that peeked up from the line of the table. She wore a thick strand of pearls around her neck. My eyes moved up the soft line of her neck to her perfect little ears. A simple pearl stud decorated each lobe. I found myself wanting to nuzzle my face in that soft spot below her ear.

_When did you turn into a woman? _I shook my head to clear out that thought.

"What _is_ your element Bella?" I inquired. She didn't answer, but I could see the wheels turning in her mind. I hoped she would humor me and at least give me some insight into who she was. I was trustworthy enough for that small of a detail.

"I don't know anymore," she sighed. I felt a bit of her armor lay down. "I used to have one, but now, now I'm sort of in limbo."

"Hmm," I paused. I didn't know what to say, her honesty caught me off guard. "And here I was thinking that you had it all figured out."

She snorted and I bit back a laugh. It was a strangely sexy noise.

"Why would you think that? I don't have anything figured out."

"I don't know," I shrugged, "You just give off that vibe. I mean look at you, you're all put together and shit."

Luis brought our pizza out and dropped it onto the table. He shoved a few paper plates and napkins in our directions and I silently wished he'd brought real plates. Utensils would have been nice too. Nonetheless, I picked up a steaming piece of pizza and regretted not waiting. My fingers tingled and I dropped it onto the paper plate.

"Shit's hot," I warned as I licked my burning fingers. She lifted her slender fingers and smoothly slid her pizza to her plate. She looked around momentarily searching for something. Her forehead creased and she took a breath.

"I'm a wreck actually," she exhaled. I studied her as she slowly took a bite. Her lips pinked up with every clench of her jaw.

"What made you this way?" I asked, sincerely wanting to know what could have shaken this picture perfect creature.

"I failed the first part of my premarital counseling," she blurted.

I laughed, probably a little too loud judging by the look of resentment on her sweet face.

"How'd you manage that? I didn't know it was a pass/fail sort of program."

A strange resolve creased her brow and she just started talking.

"We were asked if there was anything that could tempt us away from our spouses and I came up with something. He didn't."

"He is a liar. We are creatures driven by our baser instincts. Everyone has a temptation," I assured.

No man can say, with any degree of seriousness, that he'd never seen a pretty woman and thought about getting her in bed. I'll be honest, I'd thought about Bella in a few compromising positions since we'd met.

"I've completely changed who I am for him. I don't dress like I used to, I don't talk like I used to, I can't tell him about the person I used to be," she reveal. She was no longer taking dainty bites, instead she was carelessly shoving chunks of pizza into her mouth.

"Who were you?"

"I guess I was Bella Swan, human being. Now I'm more like Bella Swan-Soontobe-Newton, robot," she laughed. It was a beautiful sound. Her brown eyes wrinkled and she tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear.

_Cullen, stop this now._

"Well, stop being a robot." Girls always overcomplicated. The simple solution is to just stop all of the shenanigans. This guy would either love her or not, but if he'd gone so far as to ask her to marry him, he couldn't be a complete idiot.

_When did you become fucking Dr. Phil?_

"If only it were that simple, he doesn't like it if I'm not who he knows."

"Well, do you like who he knows?"

"I used to, but the more time that goes by, the more changes that I make, I find myself resenting that person."

"Give him a chance to. Try telling him and being the real you. He may lie to priests, but he may also love you," I winked.

"Yeah, sure…I'll do that." She rolled her eyes sarcastically. She snorted again and it was still cute.

"No, you can. You need to, if not for him, for you. Practice on me… I'll listen." I tried to encourage her. I don't know if I'm just a glutton for punishment or what, but I wanted to help her figure things out. For some weird reason, I didn't like to think of her being out of balance, unhappy.

She looked at me like she was waiting for someone to pop out and tell her she was on candid camera.

"I can't."

"Sure you can, we don't know each other, and I can't judge you." I reached across the table, my hand just centimeters from hers. I could barely feel the heat radiating from her balled up fist. I fought the temptation for a moment, but gave in. I tested her first, lightly running my thumb over her tensed knuckles. She did little more than release a slow breath. _What are you doing Edward?_ The fear of her slapping me wasn't strong enough and I reached over and draped my hand over hers.

She bashfully dropped her focus to her lap and then back to my face. She searched for something, but I guess whatever she was looking for was gone from me. She left her hand there for a moment before she drew it back to her body.

I don't know why, but I felt a strange sense of elation, not rejection. Bella was either too nice to reject me outright and leave or she felt the same strange sense of comfort as I did. I left my hand where it was and encouraged her once again. That sad look needed to leave her soft eyes.

"Just try."

She chewed her lip nervously, but started to speak.

"Mike," she whimpered, "I've not been honest with you. I've not been myself with you. I don't feel worthy of you and, and your status. You're good and honest and generous. I'm not. I get mad and I curse and I lie. I don't want sterling silver or pearls. I don't want a membership to the Country Club or posh dinner parties. I just want you and me, love and commitment. I'm drowning in the Emily Post propriety and Cartier jewels."

She was killing me. I was wrapped up in her words. She had us both fooled. Here I thought she was perfect and uptown and out of reach, but she was really just playing a role to perfection. She looked at me for permission to continue and I nodded for her to go on.

"I am scared that I'll be a terrible wife. That I won't want to have as many children as is expected. That I won't cook well enough, or be sociable enough, or know enough about interior design. I...I…I… I know I love you, but is that enough?"

The desperate grimace that pulled the corners of her lips down took the air from my lungs. She was lost, searching, and scared. How could this guy let this go on? Here she was pleading with some guy from a bookstore. I opened my mouth to answer her, but she shook her head.

"Rhetorical," she closed her eyes and for a second I thought she was going to cry. I grabbed a napkin from the pile and readied it just in case.

"I've done drugs Mike. All recreational so don't worry about getting HIV from me. No needles," she smiled sheepishly, "I get a weird high from using four-letter words. I'm not a virgin, but you knew that. What you didn't know is that I've had seven partners, not two like I originally said. I'm sorry for the lie, but I never said I was perfect. Well, not in so many words at least."

I wanted to laugh and scream and kiss her all at the same time. She was so honest and forthcoming. Her confessions so benign, but I could tell they wore her down. How could these things be hard to tell the man she was going to marry?

"I just want to be the best for you, but I don't understand why the real me can never stand up to the one I feel like you need me to be." Her features were pleading with me and a tear ran down from the corner of her eye. I flexed to wipe it away, but she caught it with the napkin in her hand before I could.

The hopelessness that was written across her face sparked something inside me. I needed to tell her all of the things she needed to hear. I wanted everything to be ok for her, this stranger from the other side of society. This lost girl struggling to be something for someone and loosing herself in the process. I tried to still my pounding heart by taking a deep breath. She deserved to hear this, even if it was from some stranger from the bookstore.

"Bella, you'll be a fine wife," I spoke softly, "We can order takeout for as long as you like, until you feel comfortable in the kitchen.  How many kids do you want? Then that's how many I want. I've got no expectations outside of you loving me, needing me, and supporting me. Paint the walls white, I don't care. We don't have to have any dinner parties. I'll eat dinner with you alone forever."

I opened my palm to her and she allowed me to hold her perfect hand.

"What do you want if you don't want pearls and silver, because you can have it. If you don't want to play golf at the Country Club, then we'll play basketball at the Y. Whatever you want. If you like to cuss, lay it on me, just go easy around my mom," he winked and continued, "If you feel the need to lie, just make sure you never lie to me about who you are, what you want, or how you feel. Because if we're honest about that, you may surprisingly find yourself not needing to. I promise to love you, Bella, I promise to need you and to want you, but only if you're real with me. Be real for me."

I trembled slightly from the emotions coursing through my veins. What had this woman done to me?

I hoped she felt the sincerity. I hoped this Mike guy was able to give her everything she needed. I hoped that he'd be able to love her as much as she loved him. I hoped he'd be able to soothe her fears and anxieties.

But, something told me he wasn't.

---------------------

**Bella. **

I sat motionless, tears running recklessly down my ruddy cheeks, soaking in what I'd just heard. Edward's hand was still clutching mine. He was making slow circles on the smooth skin of the back of my hand. He was searching my face for a response outside of the tears.

The only sounds around us came from the buzzing beverage cooler and the clanging of pans in the front of the restaurant. A ragged breath would occasionally make its way out and into the open.

"I'd assume he'd say something like that – if he were worth marrying at least." Edward squeezed and released my hand. His warm palm slid back across the table and into his lap.

I was immediately alone.

I studied him, unrepentant with my open staring. He looked embarrassed almost. Vulnerable. Why did he look vulnerable? I was the one that laid it out there in all of its glory. My naked past and convoluted future splayed out before him.

His green eyes ducked for cover under his thick fringe of dark eyelashes. I didn't want him to be embarrassed or vulnerable or anything of the sort. He should feel proud. He'd just said the sweetest things I'd ever heard.

_Say something. Don't let this get weird._

"I…," I started, but realized I had no idea what to say. He took a long drink from his water bottle. He set it on the table top and nervously played with the cap. I tried to make eye contact, but he deftly avoided it.

"I need a cigarette," I blurted. His eyes shot to meet mine and a smile crept into his features. His eyes lit up mischievously.

"Falling back into our old ways," he asked, clucking his tongue. His perceived embarrassment washed away.

"Whatever," I avoided, "Where do we pay?" My eyes darted around the interior, but couldn't find a cash register.

"It has been taken care of."

"Edward," I said firmly, "I came under the impression that this wasn't a date. I _have_ to pay or else it would have been."

"No, I don't have to pay here. I trade books for food. And if it'll make you feel any better, I can take it out of your store credit," he bargained. He stood from the table and attempted to re-roll his sleeves.

I huffed and stood. I grabbed my bag off of the floor and looped my jacket through the handles. No sense in fighting this.

"Now, what about that cigarette?"

"Right this way." He extended his elbow towards me and without thinking I linked my arm with his.

Edward led us out of the pizzeria, but not without sending a goodbye in the direction of the kitchen. We settled at a bench just outside and sat down. He was extremely close. Or was I? I couldn't tell. Edward shifted on one hip to retrieve his lighter. He was now leaning into me and I caught another whiff of him. It was intoxicating.

He began packing the cigarettes again and extracted two. He put both to his lips and lit them simultaneously. He was so sexy and I was so confused. What was I doing here with him again? He took one cigarette between his thumb and index finger and handed it to me. I nervously took it from him, the orange filter pinched between my shaking hands.

"You _have_ smoked a cigarette before," he grinned. I looked at him strangely.

"Yeah," I answered defensively.

"Well, stop shaking, you look like an amateur."

I laughed and took a slow, deep drag. Edward watched me for a moment and followed suit. Almost immediately I felt the effects of the nicotine. My head felt heavy and light all at the same time. I couldn't help but cough a bit as I exhaled. He laughed.

"So it has been a while…" I choked and took another measured pull. The trembling in my hands stopped.

We sat in relative silence. The only sounds were the occasional choke coming from my delightfully burning lungs. I kept my head down, studying our touching thighs. He was muscular, but not in an assuming way. His dark jeans hugged him just enough. His hand rested comfortably on top of the leg that was grazing mine. I fought the urge to touch him again.

He watched the people pass around us from behind the anonymity of his sunglasses. He seemed comfortable enough sitting here with me. I hoped he was. I hoped he found me as interesting as I found him even though we knew nothing about one another. I take that back, even though I knew nothing about him and he knew _a lot_ about me.

"Tell me something about Edward," I pressed, taking another draw. He leaned over and took the final drag from his cigarette. He proceeded to stub it out on the cast iron leg of the bench and exhaled a smooth, white cloud.

"Not much to Edward really," he shrugged, leaning back and putting an arm behind my back.

_Smooth. Now tell him to move it._

I couldn't. It seemed harmless enough. I didn't understand his unexplained ease around me, but he wasn't being wholly inappropriate.

_Who cares about appropriate anyway?_

"I've lived in Seattle for four years. I moved here from Chicago with my buddy Jasper. He wanted to open a bookstore and I fronted some of the cash. It was a joint venture and I've been pushing glossies ever since."

"Hmm," I responded, "Does Jasper still work with you?"

"Yeah, he handles the business end. I take care of the operations."

I laughed. Of course he did. He could, excuse the cliché, sell ice cream to Eskimos.

"What? I'm good at what I do," he whispered feigning indignation. I nodded and laughed a little as I recalled his rousing sales tactics.

"Well, maybe not too good. You were the one who said you were immune to, how'd you put it… to my sexy sales pitches?" He cut his eyes and looked down at me.

I blushed feverously and coughed.

"That cigarette still giving you breathing problems?" He questioned innocently. He was anything but innocent and he knew it.

"Maybe you should stick to the candy kind," he teased.

"Yeah, well, I told you it's been a while," I croaked, nervousness taking over my body again. I anxiously checked my watch.

"Fuck, it's one o'clock," I yelped. I stood up jerkily and grabbed my head. I was such a lightweight.

"Got somewhere to be?"

"We can't all be our own bosses," I responded sarcastically. He grinned and rose to his feet.

"I've got to go Edward. Thanks for lunch and… and… everything else."

"You going to be OK?" His forehead creased with concern. I hope he didn't think that one cigarette would incapacitate me. Wait, I don't think that's what he meant.

I nodded and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Was I supposed to shake his hand or hug his neck? Kiss him?

_No, definitely don't kiss him._

Before I knew it, his arms were wrapped around my waist and he was hugging me.

"Bella, be honest with him. He'll listen." He patted my back reassuringly and gave me a squeeze.

I hadn't realized up until that point how tall he was. I came just to the middle of his chest. My head nuzzled into the space over his heart. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to listen to its soft rhythm. I nodded as he held me and accepted the brief solace I found in his friendly embrace.

Soon enough I realized that I was enjoying it a bit too much and awkward, engaged Bella took back over. I wrenched my arms back to my sides and out of his hold. I smiled and gracelessly stepped around him and staggered down the sidewalk.

"I'll see you soon Bella Swan."

----------

I stumbled blindly through the busy sidewalks in a desperate attempt to make it back to work before my absence was noticed. I was on good terms with the boss man, but there was no sense in messing up a sure thing. I didn't allow myself the luxury of dwelling on the conversations or contact I'd had with Edward. I'd deal with that later. For now, I needed to be in my office and working.

Two blisters and eighteen minutes later, I whirled into the elevator and headed up to my floor. Thankful for the respite, I slipped off one of my shoes and surveyed the damage. Yep, flats for sure next time I made that trek.

_Will there be a next time?_

I thought about visiting him again. Maybe eating pizza again or getting his book recommendations. Maybe I'd get to hug him again.

_No, you mean next time you go to lunch with MIKE._

I shook my head dismissing my previous thoughts. Every next time will be for Mike.

The doors dinged open and I bent to slip my shoe back on my pained foot. I grimaced and hobbled out of the elevator in the direction of my office.

"Bella," I heard a voice call after me. I turned to see Alice, her eyes wide and frantic, barreling towards me.

"Your office, now!" She pushed me down the row of cubicles and through the door of my office, shutting it behind us. I was thankful the doors where fitted with hydraulic hinges otherwise it would have slammed loudly as a result of her force. She pushed me to my chair and sat me down.

I stared at her in both fear and worry. She put a hand on each of my shoulders and leaned in, her face directly in front of mine.

"What is this ab…"

"No, I am asking the questions." She cut me off abruptly. I snapped my jaw shut. She wasn't playing. I nodded passively and waited for whatever she was getting to.

"Where were you," she asked, the tenor of her voice somewhere between disappointment and frenzy. I opened my mouth and debated lying. Tell her the truth and risk this being an extremely long and emotional conversation or just hit the highlights. I studied her face, her eyes were bright and I decided she wouldn't buy the condensed version.

"I was at lunch with someone."

"No shit, the whole office knows."

"Ok, that's weird. Why do they all know that and why does my lunch dates, I mean acquaintances matter?"

"Well, Lauren 'Mouth from the South' Mallory apparently caught you in the arms of another man as he professed his love for you," she barked. Her fists balled up and she angrily crossed her arms over her chest. It looked like she was going to cry.

I took a deep breath and assessed the damage. First, how did I not see her in the pizza place, I mean it was like eating inside of a matchbox. Secondly, I wasn't in the arms of another man as he professed his love for me. It was a misconception that Lauren didn't bother clearing up before she made it back to the gossip hotline that was her receptionist station.

"She's a twat," I muttered angrily. This was really putting me in an awkward position.

"Well, is the twat right or wrong?"

I turned my face up to Alice and pursed my lips sarcastically.

"When is she ever right?"

Alice exhaled a bated breath and sunk lifelessly into the chair behind her.

"Thank God," she murmured.

"It wasn't like that at least," I clarified, "I was at lunch with the dude from the bookstore near Mike's office because Mike stood me up. I had stepped in the bookshop because I have a store credit and he invited me to lunch with him. I made sure I paid for my food and we sat in the middle of the restaurant. It was like eating lunch with my brother. No professions of love."

Well, I'd managed to not lie about 84% of what had happened. I was technically paying with my store credit and well, he was nothing like my brother. That part was a straight lie.

"Something stinks," Alice said sourly. You had to admit, this little one was bright. Nothing slipped past her.

"What?" I asked in disbelief.

"How could she have gotten her story so wrong? I mean she had some details that are beyond even her evil imagination."

Shit.

Here goes nothing.

"I met the guy at the bookstore when I went to take back the wedding magazines. He owns the place and was all flirty and stuff, but that is part of his sales shtick. Anyway, I'd gone in there today because if I didn't spend that money it was just pissed away, so after Mike stood me up, Edward asked me if I was hungry… because I'd told him I was supposed to eat lunch with my fiancé. I told him I was taken and he said it wasn't a date. Blah blah blah…" I gushed.

"Yeah, that didn't cover anything Lauren talked about. Keep going."

Damnit, the twat was going down after this.

"So we went to the pizza place because apparently he trades cookbooks for pizza and ate lunch. Somehow we got on the subject of my failed marriage counseling and my concerns about marriage…"

Alice cut me off.

"Whatareyoutalkingabout…"

"Ah, yeah, umm, well. Long story short, I've got temptations and Mike doesn't. I am concerned about it, but can't tell Mike because he is perfect and doesn't know that I'm not. But all of that is beside the point of our current story."

She nodded and allowed me to continue.

"Right, so I was telling him about how much I've changed to be part of Mike's world and how I resented that and he was telling me to tell Mike I wanted to be the old me. Problem is Mike doesn't know the old me. Edward told me to tell Mike about the old me and let me do a test run with him. I did and he gave me a test response."

All of the words came out in a ragged breath. I felt a little lighter getting it off of my chest though. I peeked up at Alice who was now limply laying across the chair. She looked a little freakish, the way her legs were splayed out and all.

"Alice, you there?"

"Where does the 'I promise to love you, Bella, I promise to need you and to want you' stuff come into play?"

"That was his test response. What I should expect Mike to say."

"And the hand holding?"

Fuck that twat. She didn't miss anything.

"More testing related stuff."

"Was there any testing related sex?"

"No!" I exclaimed just a little too loud. "I just smoked a cigarette."

She laughed. Her head finally bobbed up from the armrest.

"I thought you smelled like a cigarette."

I smiled sheepishly and rolled myself closer to her. She looked at me jadedly and sighed.

"You should have told me about all of this."

I knew I hurt her by not letting all of this out, but I didn't want to think about it myself.

"I know, but in all honesty, I didn't tell anyone."

"You told Edward."

"He doesn't count."

She looked at me skeptically. Of course he counted; you don't have sex thoughts about someone who doesn't count.

"So tell me about this 'non-counting' Edward…"

"Well, you know the hot FedEx guy?"

"Shane," she nodded, smiling brightly.

"You're sick… You know how hot he is and how every woman in the office fantasizes about his, no pun intended, package."

She nodded again and suppressed a sigh.

"Edward is like that. I'll fantasize about him when I see him, but when he's gone, the attraction is gone. He's the out of sight, out of mind type. Besides, I'd completely flake out if he ever made a move."

"I fantasize about Shane when I'm at home," Alice confessed. Her eyes were hazed over and lusty.

"You tramp," I laughed. We continued our little conversation for a few minutes longer. Alice seemed comforted in my answers and made me promise I'd take her to The Page on Pike at least once… just to see what all of the fuss was about.

---------------

_Dido: Let's Do Things We Normally Do_

.fm/music/Dido/_/Let%27s+Do+the+Things+We+Normally+Do

---------------

Mike and I sat in silence near the back of the small café. He pecked incessantly at his Blackberry while sipping a quickly cooling cup of coffee. I on the other hand, nursed a bottle of apple juice and worked away at a blueberry muffin. This was our Sunday routine. Every Sunday we came to this spot, drank these drinks, and held the same conversations. After we'd spent a sufficient amount of time in the same spot, Mike walked back to his place and I went for a run. It was boring, but dependable.

It had been almost a week since I'd had lunch with Edward. Mike had a grand feast of my favorite sushi waiting for me that night; his attempt to make up for backing out of our lunch date. I attempted three times over dinner to tell him the all of the things that had come pouring from my lips only hours earlier. I tried twice while we lay in bed that night. I only tried once the next morning.

I haven't tried again.

I haven't gone to the bookstore again either. Not even with Alice and she's tried to get me to go on more than one occasion. She has been encouraging me to plan my wedding, though. In her way, she is slowly pushing me down the aisle. She is convinced that my concerns are mere cold feet. I'm almost convinced. Almost.

All I need to do is tell Mike what I told Edward. Once I do that everything will be fine. I will slowly become myself again and be the best I can be for us, not just him.

"Bells, what's on your mind," Mike murmured, sliding a hand across the cool surface of the table that separated us. My mind flickered similar images, but different hands. I blinked quickly to refocus my vision. His mug clattered as he set it back onto the saucer. His phone buzzed and he fiddled with it until it quieted.

I felt nervous. I felt nauseous. I felt thirsty. My mouth was dry. Too dry to talk. I finished off the rest of my juice and steeled my fresh nerves.

_Here goes nothing._

"Mike, I want to tell …" I was interrupted.

"Mike Newton, long time no see my old friend," a man's voice exclaimed from behind me. Mike's focus went from my face to over my shoulder. His eyes lifted into a smile and he stood, arm extended, to shake hands with someone.

I peeked over my shoulder; it was a man I didn't recognize.

"Mike, I've really got to tell you something," I whispered seriously. He just nodded his head.

"In a second," he muttered. I sighed, my resolve quickly fading. I listened as he conversed with the man who turned out to be a college friend. I smiled and laughed at the appropriate times.

Autopilot.

They talked about our upcoming nuptials and the guy made suggestions on a stringed quartet. Mike discussed details from my professional life, gushing over my professional accomplishments.

"I'm so proud of my girl here," he said as he grabbed my hand and squeezed it.

I felt sick.

He wasn't proud of _me. _He didn't know _me_ and there was no one to blame but_ me_. I pulled my hand from his and dropped it to my lap. He threw a curious look in my direction, but didn't let up from the conversation he was having.

The man left and Mike shifted his seat closer to mine.

"Is everything ok?" He asked seriously. His voice was low and direct. I clenched my jaw; my obvious inability to be honest with him was beginning to piss me off. Things would get better if I could just fucking tell him what I needed to say, but I was afraid. Afraid of his response. Afraid of his anger. Afraid of his rejection.

"No, but I don't want to talk about it here." My eyes were tight. He was going to hear this from me if it was the last thing I did. His face clouded and his brows knit together. Concern stiffened his features.

"Well, let's go then. Let's talk about this." That was Mike, always willing to attack a problem if it arose. Unfortunately, a machete couldn't hack it's way through this jungle of emotion.

A small, dark smile curved onto my lips. This wasn't going to be easy.

_Yes it can be, _my optimism encouraged, _just remember what you said to Edward._

"I have to go for a run, Mike. I need to focus," I turned my face to him and made no attempt to shroud my weariness and fear. He needed to see this. He needed to see me, scared shitless and vulnerable. Because that was real. I was being real.

"Ok Bella," he sighed. He looked at me skeptically. "Should I be worried?"

I debated my answer, but settled on being optimistic.

"No, because we love each other."

I stood and took my iPod from his bag. I strapped it to my arm and weaved the earbuds up through my sleeve. Mike stood and gingerly fished them through my collar. I watched him from over my shoulder as he smoothed my t-shirt. His face was somber, taking the same pallor of my own, but still he was so loving with his touches. He loved me so much.

I turned to face him and cupped his stubbly cheeks in my small hands. I pulled him to me and kissed him deeply. I would be able to do this because this was what we needed.

"I'll see you back at your place. I'll be gone for about an hour."

He nodded and lifted his face to give me a kiss on the forehead.

"You'll tell me what's going on?"

"In full, vivid detail." I smiled, hoping to encourage him. I took his hand and rubbed the back of his hand. I leaned back to catch his eyes, but he looked sadly at our intertwined fingers.

I kissed him on the cheek and bid him goodbye.

---------------

_Athlete: Trading Air_

.com/watch?v=grBpdpA6hSk

---------------

My feet hit the concrete hard and fast. I was spent, my body screaming at me to slow down or stop running altogether, but I couldn't. Each step propelled me closer to the euphoric high I was seeking, the endorphins that were moments from release.

Typically, I ran a five mile loop through Seattle. At this moment, I was on mile eleven with no intention of stopping. Each pound of my shoe to the sidewalk under me was symbolic. Each footfall crushed an insecurity, fear, or problem that was plaguing me. My chest heaved and sweat trickled down the middle of my back. It felt so good I wanted to cry.

I ran circles through town, taking paths that I'd run in the past. Old marathon circuits that were familiar to me. I was dizzy with my thoughts and at times was forced to push them out of my mind so that I could focus on breathing and moving.

I ran until I solved my problems. I ran until I rid myself of insecurities. I ran until I was brave.

I ran.

And ran.

And ran.

Until I had to stop.

My chest stung and cried out for more oxygen. Both legs were cramping from strenuous use. My eyes burned from the sweat that ran like tears down my face. I lifted my hands up and brought my forearms to rest on top of my head, expanding my chest to get as much air in as possible. I found a low bench nearby and sat down, stretching my legs over the flat plane. I sucked in deep breaths and squeezed my eyes tight. I pulled the earbuds from my ears and listened to my labored breaths.

After a few minutes, I felt myself beginning recover. My breathing was still deep, but not ragged. Sweat still beaded on my forehead, but I felt it cool my flushed face. I leaned my upper body over my knees in an attempt to stretch my tired leg muscles and prevent further cramping.

I realized after a moment that I didn't know where I was. I peered around for a street sign, but couldn't make out the words from where I sat. Mike was going to have to come get me. There was no way I was going to be able to make it back to his apartment. I was completely depleted.

I numbly set my feet onto the ground and stood. My legs wobbled and I braced myself using the bench. The bright green running shorts I was wearing were sticking to my legs with perspiration and I attempted to unstick them. My feet were stinging.

I looked around at my surroundings for a payphone and spotted a few familiar store fronts. My exhausted brain lagged behind and was slow to reveal my location. I turned around and through hooded eyes found myself staring at another familiar location.

_The Page on Pike_

The black vinyl letters stuck to the glass in a perfect curve. If my heart hadn't already been in a hyperactive state, this would have certainly sent it there. I couldn't figure out how I'd ended up here. I tried to recount my path, but was too worn-out to recall. I stood staring into the window for a minute or two.

_I wonder where Edward is._

I rested my hands on my hips and stepped back to get out of the way of an oncoming pedestrian. I caught a frightening glimpse of myself in the window. My cheeks were red and my pony tail was falling. The white jogging top I wore was darkened with sweat. I attempted to right my ponytail and wipe some of the perspiration from my cheeks, but to no avail. Therapy running ruined any effort to look cute.

I sighed and sat down on the bench again. Any other day, I'd be worked up by my arrival at said location, but today I was just too tired to care. It didn't even look like it was open. There was no one inside milling about. Besides, I was practically incognito in my running garb; the makeup was washed away, the curls absent from my hair, and the only jewelry I wore decorated my left hand.

_Get out of here before you pass out._

I pushed myself back off of the bench and walked down the street for a payphone. After about a block, it was painfully apparent that payphones were being eliminated. The outdated technology was being phased out with the popularity of cell phones.

I tried to duck into the nearest store, but found it to be closed. The other two buildings nearby were offices and closed as well. I feebly turned and headed back to the bookstore in the hopes that it would be open and that Edward would be absent.

Once I reached the store landing, I put a hand out to grab the handle. With a purposeful jerk, I found the door to be locked. Part of me was relieved; I wouldn't have to deal with the odd looks I would be sure to receive in my current state of disarray. Another part of me was disappointed that I wouldn't be able to catch a glimpse of Edward, regardless of how shitty I looked.

_What bookstore is fucking closed on Sunday? _

I turned back towards the street and trudged out towards another store. I wasn't three steps down the sidewalk when I heard the flurry of clicking locks. I turned as quickly as I was capable to see what was going on and there was Edward swinging open the door.

"Bella," he called out. His velvet voice quickened my heart.

"I thought you were closed," I stated, surprise coloring my voice.

"We are. I'm doing inventory and I heard someone try to open the door. I looked up and there you were," he smiled and opened the door wider, "Come on in." I hobbled over towards him.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked. His face was turned in confusion.

"I went for a run," I answered simply, not interested in wasting oxygen on details. "Can I use your phone, I need to call Mike to come pick me up." He nodded and started walking through the darkened bookstore.

"You went running for like the first time ever? You look exhausted." He reached behind the counter and pulled out a portable telephone.

I just looked at him and shook my head, tired sarcasm splashed over my heated face. I took the phone and punched in Mike's cell number. I held it to my ear and waited for him to pick up. After a few rings, it went to his voicemail. I hung up without leaving a message and dialed his house. Again no answer, just the voicemail. This time I left a message telling him where to pick me up and why.

"You want something to drink," Edward asked concerned.

"If you've got a water fountain or something that would be great."

"I've got some water upstairs. I also have the A/C turned on up there if you want to wait for Mike up there," he offered. I looked at him confused.

"I live upstairs," he explained. I momentarily deliberated going up to his apartment, but my thirst made the final decision.

"Sure, if you don't mind, I'm dying for something to drink." I was thankful for the lack of concern for propriety that the exhaustion provided. Otherwise, I'd be worried about the implications of such an offer. Edward headed off in the direction of the back of the store and I followed carefully behind him.

My close proximity to his moving form meant a few heady whiffs of his smoky scent. I immediately panicked and threw my arm up to see if I smelled like a gym sock. Luckily I was twenty minutes shy of disgusting. Mike should be here by then.

Edward led us to a door in the back of the store which opened up to a narrow staircase. He trudged up the stairs with ease and my tired thighs screamed and shook with protest.

"Ah, when he gets here, you may have to have him carry me back out," I laughed. Edward peeked over his shoulder, his eyebrow raised in question.

"I don't know if I'll be able to make it back down the stairs. My legs are pretty worn out."

"You got the pretty part right," Edward uttered softly. I sucked in a breath and my eyes snapped to his ascending form. I'd been so caught up in making sure I didn't fall up the steps to realize I was missing a great show. His tight derriere was eye level in front of me. I suppressed a traitorous sigh. Apparently, I wasn't too tired to fantasize.

"Don't start," I warned. He laughed that honeyed laugh and stopped at the top of the stairs. He twisted the doorknob and pushed into the apartment. I immediately felt the cool air conditioning welcome me. I stepped up the final stair and into his living quarters. It was rich with his fragrance.

The space was surprisingly expansive. There was a smallish kitchen to the right and an open living area to the left. A shabby upright piano was tucked into the corner and there were a sparse collection of photos hanging on the walls. It was charming and neat. I half expected to see beer bottles and clothes all over the floor, but things were picked up. The only thing littering the landscape was the random half-full glass of water.

"Here you go," Edward was standing in front of me with a glass of water outstretched. I reached up to take it and allowed my fingertips to brush his.

_Why did you do that? Do you want to get yourself into trouble?_

"Thanks." I drank the water quickly and Edward chuckled.

"I'll get you some more." He took the glass from me and meandered back into the kitchen. I heard him turn the tap and fill the glass.

"You've got a nice place here." I slowly stepped around furniture and assessed the room.

"Yeah, it's close to work," he joked.

"That it is." I walked over to the windows facing the street and took in the view. I could hear the chunks of ice tap the glass as he approached. He stood just behind me and set the glass down on the wide window sill.

"So Bella, what brings you down to my neck of the woods? Other than your run of course…" He was close, very close. His breath was hot on my neck. I immediately felt the swell of goosebumps across my skin.

"Just that…" I whimpered, overtly affected by both his proximity and effortless charm. I turned to face him, my shoulders brushing against his chest as I moved. Alarms were sounding in my head, but were dulled by my pulse ringing in my ears.

I was weak, not just physically, but mentally. I was worn down from weeks of internal monologues and arguments, drained from faking and hiding. I was falling apart, tired of caring for the person I'd become. As he stared into my eyes, I realized something else. I was weak for touch. Weak for contact and sensation and desire. These things had gone unattended without notice and were now making themselves known. They were calling out to _him_.

"Edward," I cautioned, my last bit of resolve crumbling under his intense gaze. The darkening in his vibrant green eyes told me he knew what he was doing. The back of his hand came up brush to my cheek briefly before moving to brush over the pebbled skin of my arm. I almost felt embarrassed by the irrepressible physical reaction now obvious to his touch.

Edward's pink lips parted slightly and his warm breath carried over my face. His breathing picked up and his chest pressed into mine with a more rapid succession.

"Did you tell him yet?" He questioned. His eyes flickered with an indecipherable emotion.

Fear?

Resentment?

Hope?

I could only shake my head; my chin tilted downwards in shame. A long finger drew a line from my shoulder up to my chin and lifted it. Deep green stared back at me.

"Bella," he whispered, "I'm going to kiss you." His eyes never faltered, never left mine.

"Why?"

"Because you need to be kissed."

I felt myself becoming rigid beneath his hands, but I didn't move. I braced myself for it. He moved apprehensively towards me, his face centimeters from mine. Things were moving in painfully slow motion outside of my body, but inside was a flurry of thoughts and emotions. I worked to push the thoughts out and focus on what was happening.

A smile played on his lips. My eyes widened with his nearness. His finger found its way back to my chin and he pulled it higher, angling my lips to his. He was so close we were fighting for the same oxygen. I was wrapped tightly in his scent and the cool air around us. He closed his eyes and I felt my lids droop with anticipation.

I wanted this. I _really _wanted this. And it was going to be.

Then it happened. His warm pout connected with mine and I felt something I'd not felt in years. A connection. Yearning and desire. It was coming off of him in waves.

His lips were as supple as I'd imagined. I softened into him and wrapped my arms around his lean waist. He grasped my hips and pulled me to him. I found my lips parting and my tongue sought refuge with his. I searched his mouth feverously. His hand brushed underneath my shirt and rested on the small of my back. He pressed me even closer to him. I couldn't even worry about the sweat and salt that was all over me. This was too good.

My fingers fisted the fabric covering his back as our lips fought for dominance. His teeth tugged at the plump flesh of my lower lip and my head fell back in ecstasy. This man was making me feel things that I didn't know I had been missing. He suckled and nuzzled the flesh of my neck, paying careful attention to each side of my face. I found my hands tangled in his soft hair and began massaging his scalp.

He let out a low moan. I felt my self grow dizzy with need and arousal, my knees buckled and stumbled backward coming to sit on the window sill. I whimpered when I found his lips absent from my skin because I was now seated lower. He fluidly dropped to his knees and nestled himself between my thighs and resumed his fevered assault.

Our kisses were needy, but offered something else. Something I didn't know I was willing to give up. I barely knew this person, but I knew I felt substance in his touch.

Hands and lips and moans played as we discovered each other. I sighed into his mouth as his strong hand made its way up the ripple of my ribcage. I wanted him to put his hands on me more than what we'd allowed thus far.

"Edward, touch me." I whined with need. He moaned and I felt his kisses slow until they came to a complete stop. His head tilted to capture my ear with his lips; he sucked the lobe in between his teeth and raked his tongue over the flesh.

I groaned with desire. He stopped and pulled away from me. My eyes snapped open.

"Bella, I'm about to make either the best or worst decision of my entire life." He took hold of my hands and pulled them over his heart.

I stared at him with bewilderment and lust.

"You've got to tell him. He gets you first."

His eyes were pleading with me for understanding and I did.

The ball was in my court. I'd seen both sides of the fence and it was time for me to choose.

Be me or her.

Have this or that.

* * *

**Ahhhhh, review review review!**


	5. No Envy, No Fear

_Hello everyone! I'm glad you came back to visit. _

_I apologize for my terrible delay in updating. I've been dealing with some heavy 'life' stuff, but have emerged victorious and ready to write. _

_As always, please read and review!_

_Things I own: A ridiculously expensive pair of sunglasses, a purple iPod, runner's knee._

_Things I don't: Twilight. Or the reference to SSBs from S&tC._

**____________**

_Foo Fighters: Best of You_

**____________**

**Edward.**

She stared at me for a moment. Those deep brown eyes were lit with a strange amalgamation of curiosity and understanding. Her lips were set in a sour pucker somewhere between a kiss and a scowl.

I released her hands, letting them rest in her lap. I remained on my knees, relishing the feeling of warm thighs touching the tender flesh just below my ribcage.

Doing the right thing had never felt so wrong.

"What am I supposed to do now, Edward?" She asked.

I immediately felt guilty for my actions. I kissed her. I took something from her that I'd never be able to give back. Words like loyalty, fidelity, honor, attacked my senses. It was my turn to become rigid.

"I'm sorry, Bella, I shouldn't have done that. I know you're situation, but you just… hell, I don't know, you looked like you needed to be kissed," I grimaced at my shoddy apology. It just felt wrong coming out of my mouth.

I should have apologized for being at work that first day we met.

I should have apologized for flirting with her and taking her to lunch.

I should have apologized for opening the door to her today.

I wanted to apologize for every step that led us up to this point and everything that would result from the action, but I didn't want to apologize for that kiss.

She shook her head. Her eyes closed and her mouth parted. I involuntarily licked my lips. Her sensual whines replayed mercilessly in my mind. I was attracted to her in every way. I found my muscles flexing to touch her; even the pads of my fingertips itched to feel her skin.

I studied the flushed skin of her neck and felt the rush of desire moving from the inside of my chest lower. I closed my eyes to drive the heat away. I opened my mouth to attempt a more fitting apology.

I was cut off.

Her lips fell into mine hungrily. Her kiss was softer than before, but no less reckless. Her delicate fingers found my hair and she pulled my face closer to her own. My hands flew up to the cool glass of the window behind her. I wouldn't allow my hands to take hold of her hips and pull her onto my lap. That's what I wanted, but more than I would let happen. Each errant thought that crashed through my mind tested my resolve. I wouldn't let her do this to herself.

I tucked my chin so that our foreheads touched, disengaging our lips. I couldn't open my eyes for fear of falling into the thick cloud of sexual desire that enveloped us.

She knew what my actions meant. Her fingers untangled from my hair and slid down to my cheeks, cupping my face tenderly.

"Now, we're both guilty parties. We're equals." She gazed into my eyes with unabashed tenderness. She leaned in and I almost turned my head to avoid kissing her again. Any trace of resolve I had was gone, I would have my way with her if we kissed again. Instead, she wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a hug.

With great trepidation, I returned the hug. We lingered for a few moments until she gave me a final squeeze and stood. I rocked back on my heels and stood as well. An unfamiliar gracelessness took over and I found myself moving clumsily to walk her out.

She chuckled, "It's good to know I'm not the only awkward one here."

I smiled with embarrassment, allowing my vulnerability to surface. She walked effortlessly to the stairway. I felt the overwhelming sensation of a goodbye washing over me. I scrambled to remember the details of these moments. Bella sweaty and flushed from her exercise, dressed in a pair of grass green shorts and a white jogging top. Her chocolate eyes looking coyly over her shoulder at me. Her brown hair twisted up in a messy ponytail. No makeup, no fancy dress, no façade. Just her.

"Thanks for the water, Edward. I'll see you around."

I watched her descend the stairs. I could make out a faint linear impression denting the smooth skin on the back of her thighs from where she'd been sitting on the window sill. I'd probably never be able to look out that window again without reliving these moments.

It was that good.

**____________**

_Joshua Radin: No Envy, No Fear_

**____________**

**Bella.**

I shut the door behind me and was closed in the bookstore. I cut my eyes, looking around the store for witnesses. After a moment, I realized that I was truly alone. I inhaled a shaky breath and slowly released it.

I brought my fingers to my lips. The skin just under my bottom lip was the slightest bit raw; a sinful reminder of the scruff of his stubble. A sigh escaped and broke the perfect silence of the room.

I scurried out of the front door and moved towards the crosswalk just down from the storefront. I found an empty bench and plopped down. I hunched over, resting my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. I was far enough from the bookstore to be out of Edward's way and close enough to see Mike when he drove up.

I sat on the bench for a few minutes, just listening to the sounds of traffic and pedestrians. I silently rehearsed my conversation with Mike even though I knew that when the moment came, I'd be at a loss for words.

How many times had I been through this? I'd even had a dress rehearsal for God's sakes. I grew increasingly frustrated. I was going to get this retched indecision out of my system if it was the only thing I did today.

It was a mere moment later that I heard the grinding click of a parking brake. I looked up and saw Mike's gray sedan parked before me. I steeled my nerves and stood, taking two shaky steps before I opened his car door and slid into the creamy leather seat.

"Thanks for coming and getting me. I think I was very near death," I laughed. Mike gave a light chuckle, but didn't look at me. His eyes were fixed on the slightly congested road before us. I stared at him for a moment, expecting a smile or kiss or something, but got nothing.

We continued in silence for a few blocks. I knew something was up. He wasn't looking at me and he was taking deep breaths. He would squeeze and release the steering wheel with each exhale. I started to get nervous, bile pushed its way up my chest.

Something was definitely up.

I scrambled for a few words, anything to break up the uncomfortable silence.

"Do you remember when we first met?" Mike's gravel voice broke through the interior. He turned to look at me, his eyes moist.

What was happening?

"Of course I do. I was waitressing at McFarlane's and you sat in my section everyday for two weeks." I smiled at the memory and reached to take his hand. I pressed my palm over his clenched fist. He turned his eyes away from the road and I saw the tears silently streaking down his face.

"Tell me what you remember, Bella, tell me you haven't forgotten." His voice was strained. Panic washed over me. What was he so upset about? I blurted out the condensed story of my first encounters with him.

"I was a terrible waitress, but you always asked to be in my section. Finally, after all that time, you asked me out."

"You always wore those silly glasses and earrings in both sets of holes in your ears." His fingers released the wheel and he gingerly caressed the two holes in my earlobe.

"We went on our first date to Tulio's. I got the smoked salmon ravioli," I recalled, "I was so nervous, but I felt very comfortable with you."

"You were so beautiful. You wore a black dress and red shoes. We went for doughnuts afterwards. I knew I loved you after that."

"No you didn't," I laughed nervously. "You didn't tell me you loved me until we went to New York for that weekend."

"No, I knew I loved you that night. I didn't tell you until then, but I knew. I know."

We circled the block headed towards his apartment building, but when the turn came to pull into the underground parking garage he kept driving out of town.

"Mike, tell me what's got you so upset. Where are we going?"

He was silent again. His hands returned to the steering wheel. Seattle flew by outside my window and I frantically tried to figure out where we were going and what was going on. Mike wasn't looking at me anymore and he wasn't talking. I closed my eyes.

Memories flashed by. Our first kiss. Our first fight. Our first vacation together. Our engagement. Each milestone in our relationship. Every meaningful occurrence that made us who we were together. I could feel each kiss, each tear, each laugh and cry that I'd experienced in the three years we'd been together.

He drove on for some time. I attempted to get him to explain what was going on, why he was so upset, but was rewarded only by more silence. I retreated into my thoughts and allowed the quiet to cause a strange tension. I mindlessly picked at the threading on the leather seats.

Mike flipped the blinker on and proceeded to maneuver the car off of the main road and onto gravel. The rocks crunched underneath the tires. My eyes popped open and I immediately knew where he was taking me. Fear racked my body. My stomach was clenched with horror as the ornate wooden sign confirmed what I already knew.

_Salish Lodge_

He was taking me to where he proposed.

_Breathe… just breathe. _

I closed my eyes and sucked in a few breaths.

"What are we doing here Mike?" I asked, trying to lower the frightened pitch that was quickly taking over my voice.

"Just reminiscing," he replied cryptically.

The gravel road stretched out in front of us for some way and I continued my breathing exercises.

_Just play it cool, Bella. Cool. _

A fleeting calm washed over me and I attempted to straighten up my appearance. I knew by now I'd be smelling sour, but there was nothing I could do. I pulled my hair band out and raked my fingers through my messy hair. I gathered it into a neat ponytail and squared my shoulders.

Why was he bringing me here?

Did he see something?

No. How could he?

I ran over the events in Edward's apartment, my run, his lips… oh his lips. I'd been to caught up on getting the hell out of there that I hadn't allowed myself the opportunity to process what I'd done.

One second I was having a glass of ice water and the next … well, the next moment someone should have thrown it on me.

For the first time in what I would estimate to be years, I exchanged something with someone outside of an obligatory kiss. There was substance in the pulse of his lips against mine. There was feeling and emotion and desperation. All of it coming from me and at me with such haste that I couldn't make out what was his and what was mine. He overwhelmed my senses with his taste, touch, and sound. His response to me was something I'd missed. How long had it been since I'd had a man react to my touch?

He was giving me something and I took it.

Passion. That is what I experienced. The sensations reignited parts of me that were darkened for some time now. I wanted to be wrought with guilt over my indiscretions, but I wasn't.

I gave him something too.

I gave him the loyalty and my faithfulness. It was something that wasn't mine to give. Loyalty and faithfulness – that was Mike's. It was to him that I was loyal and to him that I was faithful, but not after today. I'd broken my promises. I had broken his trust and he didn't even know it yet.

The car slowed to a stop and my stomach bottomed out. I hunkered down in the seat like a child fearing punishment. Mike rounded the hood of the car and opened my door for me, his face never losing its somber expression. I stepped out and took his extended hand. He led us towards the rocky cliff where he'd proposed not two months earlier.

The boom of the waterfall echoed around us. My heart leapt to my throat and my pulse accelerated. He stood stoically at the fence surrounding the bluff. His hands shook, but I would assume from a different emotion than the last time we'd been in this place.

"Bella, you mean the world to me," he whispered, his words painfully familiar.

_Please don't do this Mike. Please._

"You've been my life for three years now. Every day my heart grows more with the love that I have for you. I can't let that stop. I am afraid of spending so much as an hour without your sweet face. I can't live a day without your voice. I can't, Bella," his voice cracked and tears fell from his eyes. He dropped to his knees before me and my jaw clenched. I tensed and my eyes stung with tears. I opened my mouth to stop him.

"Bella, I love you more than anything, more than myself. Would you marry me and make me the happiest man on Earth?" His eyes held mine. They were deep blue, sad and listless. Begging and pleading with me, but I'd already told him yes. We'd already had an engagement party. His parents had already offered us access to any of their vacation properties for our honeymoon. We had already gone to pre-marital counseling.

"Mike, why are you doing this?" I fell to my knees to join him before me. I winced at the jagged rocks that dug into my bare knees.

"Do you still want me Bella?"

I felt nauseous. I felt cold. I felt like crying and dying and screaming all at the same time.

Did I still want him? Did I still want all of the things that came with him? If so, what part of me wanted it? Which one of me wanted him? My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. This was it.

"Bella, I saw it," he said, his voice was suddenly calm, "I saw it."

"What? What did you see?" I asked, fear flooding my veins again.

"You," he choked, the calm washed away by a sea of emotion, "You in the window… kissing someone."

It was like my body and my mind were in two different places. Without warning, a strained sob escaped my lips, my head fell to his shoulder and I wept. My mind was attempting to process the how's and what's and where's.

"I'm so sorry, Mike. I'm so sorry." Apologies fell from my lips as quickly as the tears that fell from my lashes. He cried with me, my admission breaking his heart. A few moments later, his voice broke through my crying.

"I was driving up to the bookstore, I saw you from the street. You were in the window," his voice was raw and slowly turning angry, "Why Bella? What did I do? Or what didn't I do?"

I stuttered to form a coherent sentence. All of the words that I attempted to use to explain what had happened seemed to fall short, almost insultingly so. I could feel my features wrench with confusion, shame, guilt… a number of emotions ripped through my chest and caused an aching ball to form in my throat.

"I don't know what I want," I blurted out. The first honest words fell from my lips and I couldn't stop my confessions.

"I kissed him and he kissed me. I don't know why. It was the first time I've ever been unfaithful. Ever. Mike I never wanted to do anything like that to you, but it was…"

_Wonderful. Marvelous. Fabulous. Perfect._

"I've just been so … so… so fucking confused lately."

I stood up clumsily, knocking the dirt and pieces of gravel from my knees. Mike followed suit, his angry, red eyes never leaving me. The tears ceased their falling.

I pulled my hair from its ponytail and tugged at the strands. I paced the area tensely.

"You don't even fucking know me Mike. You know this other version of me. Not who I _am_, but who you _want_ me to be. I'm tired of faking it all for you. I'm not perfection. I'm not anywhere close. I'm a flawed and scared fake."

I was pouring my heart out. It was bubbling up out of my chest. It was wonderful and fucking scary.

"When we met," I started, "When we met I knew where I was, who I was and where I was going. I knew that I liked Ben Folds over Michael Bublé. I knew that I liked to say fuck over oops. Or that I liked to drink beer out of the bottle instead of out of a glass. I knew I liked to have sex in the morning or afternoon or anytime really, not just at night after I bathe and 'settle into bed'," I threw up air quotes and continued, resentment coloring my voice.

"I hate dressing to impress your parents. I hate pretending to be interested in golf or the Country Club or throwing dinner parties and using the '_Spode'_," again with the air quotes, "Mike you're a good man. You're kind and generous and you love me, but you don't even really know me. And it's all my fault. I haven't been honest with you. I just kept making these little changes to accommodate you and your family and your lifestyle. I lost me, the real me, somewhere along the way and it is killing me. I'm freaking out."

I was pointing and panting.

"What are you scared of Bella?" He asked. His strong hands caught my shoulders and stopped my frenzied pacing, forcing me to look at him.

"I'm scared of it all. I am scared of forever. I scared that I'm not good enough for you. Scared that I can't be a good enough wife or mother or hostess. I'm scared," the strength in my voice faded, "I'm scared that one day you'll wake up and realize that I'm not all of the things that you wanted me to be and you'll leave. Then all I'll have left is the shell of the person I was and no way of getting me back."

His hands slid from my shoulders. My eyes lifted to his face. Pain was written across his soft features.

_Now or never Bella. Finish this thing. _

"While I'm being honest," I began as I attempted to disregard the look on his face, "I've had sex with seven people, not two. I've also done drugs and I get off saying cuss words." The words came out in a rush and I felt years younger and pounds lighter.

I squared my shoulders and prepared for whatever was about to happen. The hammer was about to fall. The shit was about to hit the fan. Things were not going to be the same after all that. Anything I did after this point, after everything was said, I'd never be the same. Neither would he.

He'd never look at me the same.

I'd never look at him the same.

No matter what we did, after all of the apologies or accusations, he'd always see me as the mistakes I'd made. I'd always see him as the person who kept me from those stolen kisses I'd shared with someone else.

We stood untouching and stared at each other for what felt like an hour. My face was itching with dried tears, but my hands stayed tight at my sides. Every fiber in my body was flexed and ready for an attack, verbal or otherwise.

And then he spoke.

"So, do you like need time to figure yourself out? Do you want to take a break?" His voice creaked with confusion and fear. His soft blue eyes were creased with worry and his hands nervously found their way into his pockets.

My mind was fumbling for an answer. I'd expected a little more from him, a t least _some_ screaming. He exhibited yet more perfect restraint.

"I guess… I guess that some time to think it over would be nice. Some time to regroup, restrategize, you know?" I stumbled to get my thoughts out. It was as if we were bargaining to get the price of a car down; calm and reserved, trying to hide any semblance of interest.

"Well," he took in a deep breath, "I love you, any version of you, more than any other person in the world. I'll wait any amount of time. I wasn't kidding when I offered you forever. I can forgive anything." His hands reached for mine, his eyes searching for my reaction. The worried look on his face was replaced by that of confident resolve. He seemed sure that everything was going to work itself out.

_I can forgive anything._ His words reverberated in my mind. What was wrong with him? Who could be crying one second, mad the next, and a saint right after that? I began to feel angry. A deep blush was creeping up my chest and about to make it to my cheeks. I wanted him to show anger, rage, or disappointment. _Something. _I wanted to see that he was hurt by what I did. I didn't do it to hurt him, but I needed to see emotion from him, passion of some sort.

"So are you thinking like a few days… weeks…," he trailed off, searching my face again.

"A few weeks should be plenty of time," I uttered, "I'll just take some vacation time and get away. I'll sort stuff out and it will all be ok."

Taking a vacation from life with Mike wasn't going to help us any. On the contrary, I needed to live with him and be myself. Be the person that I was in my mind. I contemplated forcing him to let me move in with him. Force all of my secret single behaviors on him and just wait for him to marry me or kick me out.

He nodded and sighed.

"I can't live without you Isabella."

**--------------------**

**Edward.**

I'd gotten through the 'Self-Help' section in record time. Either I was getting good at taking inventory or the serious case of blue balls had me moving at an inhuman speed.

Bella was gone and I was confused.

It was almost ridiculous. The feelings I'd developed for her were premature at the very least, but strong. Her soft hair, sweet face, merciless lips… they all played for my attention and affection. Unfortunately for me, she was gone and there was a good chance she'd never be back.

There was no way for me to get in contact with her. As soon as she left, I launched into full on stalker mode. I'd already looked her up in the phone book, Bella Swan was unlisted. I'd already Googled her, but there were no listings for a _B. Swan_ or _Bella Swan_ in Seattle. I looked her up in our database, but she wasn't there. I'd really have to reiterate the fact we needed customer information collected after every purchase. If Nancy had been doing her job, I'd at least have Bella's phone number.

"Shit Cullen, you on drugs?" Jasper voice startled my thoughts. I jerked to see him walking in from the back entrance.

"Damn it Whitlock, ever heard of a warning shot? You scared me." I went back to what I was doing and angrily ran a box cutter over the seal of a cardboard box.

"On edge much? I see you've been really working. That's not really your style," he scoffed, running his thumbs under the elastic of his stupid suspenders.

_Who the fuck wears suspenders anyways? Other than Larry King, of course. _

"You look like a fat Santa when you do that you know," I provoked, "And I'll have you know that I work more than anyone in this place." I proceeded to count and record each book as I unloaded the cardboard box.

"Right, right, I forgot. You work the ladies. Tough work for an ugly shit like you," Jasper laughed. I just gave him a look and continued with what I was doing.

"Did you come in here with a purpose other than getting in my way?"

"Actually I did," he paused to rearrange a few books I'd just placed, "Who was your lady friend earlier?"

"Who?" I asked nonchalantly. He looked at me skeptically, an eyebrow cocked in obvious distrust.

"Cut the shit. You know who I mean - the yoga instructor that came panting out of your apartment about two hours ago."

"Yoga?" I looked at him confused. He just looked at me like I was an idiot. Eight years of friendship will do that to a person… make them _sure_ that they know you.

He continued to stare at me and his unrelenting gaze made me rather uncomfortable. I wanted to talk to him about it. I needed to confess my sins. Jasper had some pretty good advice about life, but I'd never tell him that. I looked at him and looked up at the ceiling. I cracked my knuckles and debated just going upstairs and locking him out.

_No. He'll be here in the morning. _

"Fuck me dude. I'm in trouble," I sighed. I waited for some sort of a supportive gesture from him, but got nothing.

"No man, you _are_ trouble." He bent over and began forcefully taking the books out of the box and stacking them on the floor.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I shot back, moving the books that he was stacking up around my feet.

"It means you're always eye fucking or panting on these women. Now, you've screwed one and jeopardized the shop. I told you, stick to what works… selling books, not your dick."

"I didn't fuck her. I took her to lunch and she told me all of this stuff… I kissed her and she kissed me and I told her to leave, but I wanted her to stay," I blurted it all out. I knew I hadn't made any sense when he looked at me like I was an idiot again.

All of this was messing with my head. I've always been smooth talking and even keeled. This girl had me popping my knuckles and sighing and saying shit that didn't make sense. Not my typical traits.

"What?" He asked, his eyes squinting in confusion. He finally stopped shoving books at my feet. I ran my hands through my hair and tugged at the ends.

_Keep that up and you're going to go prematurely bald. Try selling your shit then._

"You remember that girl who I told you about? The Bride, the cute one with all the magazines?" I asked, unable to stop the upturn of my lips. He grabbed the clipboard I'd been recording inventory on and began making notes.

"No idea. You tell me about all kinds of girls. Usually tits and asses make up the descriptors, not magazines and engagement rings."

"Damnit, Jasper, I told you about her. She was the one who I took to Donucci's."

He paused for a second, thinking. Then his face lit up with recollection.

"Right, the frigid chick who went all mopey on you and spilled her guts over lunch," he smiled and I could tell he was like mentally patting himself on the back for being able to remember the conversation,

"Why did you kiss her? Didn't you say she's a bride?" He asked.

_I kissed her because she is lost and beautiful. Because I wanted to and she needed it. Because I wanted to see if she tasted like she smelled. And for the record, she tastes better, if it that's possible._

"Does it matter? She isn't frigid anyway. She's got shit to straighten out."

"It does indeed matter. You never go for the married ones, it's just not right. _Remember,_" Jasper said, narrowing his eyes at me.

I looked away and scratched the back of my head. This whole situation wasn't right. It felt right, but it wasn't.

"Dude, I'm fucked and I need a cigarette," I said, avoiding his judgmental gaze.

I stuck my fingers into my chest pocket and grabbed out the soft carton. I jerked my head towards the back door and he nodded, following me.

We walked onto the wet stoop at the back of the store. I turned over a milk crate and sat down. Jasper leaned against the metal railing. I lit the cigarette and took a long pull.

"So," Jasper started.

I took a few more drags before I began speaking.

"Her name is Bella and I took her to lunch one day because she had been stood up. At first she was being uptight and I called her on it. She started telling me about this guy she is engaged to and how she doesn't fit in with his rich kid lifestyle. She was saying that she can't cuss around him and she was scared to be herself. It was ripping my heart out because she is just fucking gorgeous and all doe-eyed and innocent looking," I paused and attempted to cover up my grinning by taking another drag.

"Some of the stuff she was telling me was just cold feet and the result of a lack of communication with the dude. It was awful to see her so uncomfortable because she really seems cool. Not my typical type though. Right now she seems pretty high maintenance, but apparently it is because she's with that guy." I stubbed out the cigarette and nervously fiddled with the snap on my shirt.

"The other stuff just seems like basic incompatibility. Anyways, I tried to calm her down and encouraged her to just talk to the guy. If he was worth the trouble, he'd let her cuss if she wanted to and try to make her feel more comfortable. I was a complete gentleman and she left from Donucci's."

"Ok, then where does the kissing a married woman come into play," Jasper asked, finally breaking his silence.

"She's not married. She's engaged to be married," I reiterated.

"Right, because that makes all of the difference," he said, rolling his eyes.

"This afternoon I was in here doing inventory and I heard someone jiggle the door handle. I looked up and it was her. She needed to use the phone to have someone pick her up. She'd been out running."

"Oh, so she's not a yoga instructor?" Jasper sighed, obliviously disappointed.

"Since when do yoga instructors wear running shorts?" I paused, picturing Bella doing the standing bow pulling pose in those loose little shorts. _Too fucking hot_. I shook my head to release the sexual thoughts that followed.

"She came in, used the phone, and I offered her something to drink while she waited. One thing led to another and I kissed her. It started to get heavy and I told her we had to stop."

"So you wanted me to know this why? Because you want to ask her out or because you've got a guilty conscience?" He leaned into the railing crossing his arms over his chest.

"I don't know really. I mean, if I'm being honest, there's a part of me that would like to see where this could go," I stopped to light another cigarette and slip on my sunglasses, "I really feel like this guy's going to bolt."

"Why because she confesses that she likes to say shit?"

"Well, no. He's going to see her as a liability. You know how this uptown guys are… future politicians, high powered lawyers, they aren't looking for someone with skeletons. And we all know they're packing more heat than the average Joe when it comes to dysfunctional personal histories."

"Want my advice?" He asked, pausing for effect, "I'd wait until she walks in here and returns the sentiment. I mean, you'd hate for her to feel like you took advantage of her while she was vulnerable. Besides, if you start saving her now, you're always going to be coming to her rescue. And we all know how you feel about codependent women," he said, looking at me pointedly.

Tanya. Even thinking her name hurt. _Point taken_.

"I know, I know… I'm no white knight. It'd just be nice," I trailed off, shrugging my shoulders.

"Some women are just nice distractions. Enjoy being distracted, but don't become a pawn in their game." He gave my shoulder a hard squeeze and walked inside, leaving me and my cigarettes to fade into a slow burn.

**--------------------**

_Well? _

_Come play with us at the Twilighted Forums: http://www(DOT)twilighted(DOT)net/forum/viewtopic(DOT)php?f=44&t=3087_

_Vent, rant, rave, etc. Let me know what you want for these two. I plan to post little previews here if it is well attended. Yes, I am willing to do ANYTHING for a review. :D_

_REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW… I don't do this for my health; I do it for your reviews. Well, and for the one on one time with Edward. ;D_

_Next chapter is in progress and will feature some one on one time with .... I'll let you guess. _


	6. Falling Slowly

**Awww guys... I'm just so happy for multiple reasons!**

**1. Y'all left me so many great reviews for last chapter. That is like phenomenal!!!**

**2. I got a ton of hits for chapter 5. My heart is swelling up with love...**

**3. Famouslyso graciously agreed to be my beta! She has** **been good to me, reading my chapter and adding words I forgot... becuase if she didn't do that, you folks may have been at the very least confused by some of the sentences. :D**

**4. I'm heading out for D.C. tomorrow with the old ball and chain. to do a little sightseeing. Yay for vacations!**

**I wanted to get this chapter up before I left so that when I get back, I'll have a boat load of reviews to go through. *hint hint* *wink wink* *nudge nudge***

**Bella.**

My bathwater was getting cold. The ache in my muscles called for more heat. I carefully bumped the hot water knob with my toes and relished in the hot that mixed with the cold. I was home, resting in the quiet comfort of my shabby bathroom. The clear plastic shower curtain stuck to the outside of the bathtub. I reached for the thick sheeting and pulled it closed to encapsulate me in the heavy, humid steam.

I was tired, both in mind and body. The torture I'd put myself through was catching up with me quickly. Internally, I ducked away from any triggers that would force me to think about the day both before and after I'd met with him. Instead, I focused on the aches in my muscles, toes, knees – anywhere but the ache in my heart.

I'd screwed up. I kissed a stranger. I'd let my fiancé down. I enjoyed it. Not the fiancé part, but the kissing part. But, in my defense, it was an unbelievable kiss. A kiss worthy of praise and adoration.

Now, I was back to where I started all those days ago, half drunk and pruning in lukewarm bathwater.

I mulled over what Mike had said or rather done. He'd given me an out. He'd given me some time to figure my shit out and get back to him. I knew it was a bad idea. The marrow in my bones told me that any absence from Mike wouldn't make my heart grow fonder and yet here I was planning a mini vacation from the comfort of my quiet apartment. My mind encouraged me to stay with him, but my heart persuaded me to find a nice cozy hotel room and read a good book.

_Damn it. Don't think about books you slut. _

Ok, so apparently books are out of the question. Damn, sexy Edward has ruined my favorite pastime all because he had to kiss me in his apartment above a bookstore. Anytime I see a bookstore or pickup a book, I will no doubt feel his full lips sucking on the sweet spot below my ear.

_Fucking Edward._ My breathing hitched at the simple idea of him hovering over me. Naked. I blushed at the thought, blood pooled in my middle. I could go ahead and ease some of the sexual tension myself…

_No, I need to think of pure thoughts. Something other than _fucking_ Edward._

Two weeks.

I will give myself two weeks to go crazy. Travel. Eat. Drink. Dance. Play. Live.

When those two weeks are up, life will begin again for us. Mike and I will get to experience each other in a new way. Without pretense or judgment. Right? Right.

This is all going to be just fine.

This is all going to be just fine.

This is all going to be just fine.

Fuck. Me. I'm in trouble.

----------------

"Alice, I really need you to come to my office," I pleaded with her over the phone. She was putting up a strong front, something about a deadline and an errand that had to be run. I only had 13 more days to figure out my future. Talk about deadlines.

"Alice, our friendship depends on it… better yet, my life depends on it." Yep, I would go so far as that. She sighed on the other end of the line.

"Whatever it is, you need to be able to tell me on the road. I really do have a few errands to run," Alice's stern voice was coming across the line.

"Ok, Alice. Where and when?" I huffed, knowing that the conversations we were going to have were undoubtedly inappropriate for the general public.

"Meet me at the elevators in fifteen." I agreed and set the receiver onto the cradle.

I fussed around my office for a few minutes. I watered my plants, dropped my recycling off in the workroom bin, emailed my boss letting him know that I'd be taking off for a few days.

"You ready?" Alice popped her head in my office. She was, as always, stunning. Her short brown hair was pinned back exposing her ears which were decorated with diamond studs. She wore a well tailored suit and carried a fine leather handbag.

"Yeah," I grabbed my bag and cell phone, switched off my computer and locked my office door.

We walked in silence down the hall to the elevator, Alice giving an unhappy huff with each step.

"What are we going to do?" I asked, pushing the down button and attempting to ignore her sour mood.

"I've got to go to Staples to get ledger paper," she griped, "We live in the 21st century and yet the accounting department at Marcus Communications can't seem to wrap their heads around using computers."

I chuckled. This was an ongoing topic of conversation. Alice versus the 'old bags' that ran the accounting department she worked in.

We made it to the lobby only to find it pouring rain. Typical.

"Cab or umbrella?" I asked, hoping she wouldn't punish me by forcing me to walk in the rain.

"Umbrella."

I sighed, but stepped out into the rain anyway. Only in Seattle, a city that gets more than 220 days of cloud and rain, can it be expected to commute under the shelter of an umbrella.

"What's wrong with you Alice," I asked. We walked close together, huddling under Alice's big umbrella. I couldn't help but notice when her lips tightened to form a straight line and she shook her head.

"You're about to tell me bad news, I can feel it and I'm not excited about it."

I sighed. She was _so_ right. She was always right. It was a rather annoying quirk.

"Well, I wouldn't say it is worst news you ever heard. It isn't even that terrible, just kind of terrible," I winced.

"You're not pregnant, are you?" Alice's face was shining with apprehension and a dash of hope.

"You're sick," I screeched, "And no, I'm not pregnant."

"Ok, ok… I just didn't want to plan a shotgun wedding that's all. I need time to prep. I can't be worried about your belly showing up in pictures. What kind of a message would that send to the grandkids?" She sighed defensively.

_She needed time_, I scoffed at the idea.

I chewed my lip trying to find a delicate way of telling her about my current relationship hiatus and its cause. Upon the realization that nothing would soften the blow for her, I just let it all out.

"Mike and I are taking a break. A short, little, minor, two week break," I said and suddenly I was getting rained on. Alice had stopped walking. Her mouth was slack and her eyes wide.

"What?" she shrieked, "You're what?" I backed up to get back under the umbrella. I looked around quickly and ducked into a nearby Safeway. I took the umbrella from her, gave it a quick shake, and closed it up.

"You know all of that stuff I told you the other day? Well, I finally told him and he suggested we take a break." That was almost the truth.

"What else? That doesn't sound like Mike. What aren't you telling me?" She squinted at me accusingly and I admit, I deserved it. I turned and started walking down the produce aisle, avoiding the truth and Alice's resulting reaction. I grabbed a couple of plums and a small bag of grapes. I took a deep breath and turned to her.

"I kissed the guy from the bookstore."

"You what? God, please tell me Mike doesn't know. Wait…that is why he wants a break!!" She exclaimed, aiming a well manicured finger at me. I pushed her hand down and shushed her. I looked around, smiling sheepishly at the few people who were now staring.

"Alice," I asked sweetly, a fake smile plastered to my face, "Can you tone it down a bit, dear. People are starting to stare." I grabbed her hand and jerked her in the direction of the bakery.

"Yes, he did see it and I guess that is why he suggested a break, but the conversation wasn't even like that. He didn't really even get mad," I whispered.

"That doesn't mean he isn't mad," she replied smartly. I could only shake my head in response. I leaned into the bakery cases and admired the cakes and cookies that lined the shelves. I grabbed a box of doughnuts and carefully stacked my fruit on top. I continued walking a few paces ahead and waited for Alice to cool down. We were halfway up through the canned goods before she spoke.

"Was it any good?" She asked quietly, her heels clicking as she moved to catch up with me.

I smiled, thankful that she was behind me, and merely nodded.

"Good, because you may have sent your dreamboat sailing without you on board. I at least need to know that it was worth it."

I shook my head. Edward was pretty dreamy and I knew where he was currently anchored. Mike on the other hand, well, I don't want to think about that. I'm on vacation.

"I am taking two weeks off, during which I am going to travel and find myself," I said confidently. I grabbed a bag of ZiplockZiploc bags and added it to my pile.

"Where are you going and do I need to go with you?"

"I don't know yet and no. I think I'll do better if I'm by myself."

Alice nodded in understanding.

"Do you need anything," I asked her as we rounded the corner near the check out counter. She shook her head and we got in the shortest line.

"You know, D.C. is beautiful this time of year," she said as she nonchalantly flipped through an issue of People.

"Yeah, I thought about New York too, but I'm not sure yet. I was going to get online tonight when I got home and make arrangements. I want to leave tomorrow or the next day."

"Can your mom still get those good deals on flights?"

"Yep, one of the many perks of being a flight attendant," I replied. Renee, my mom, had worked as a flight attendant since I was 16. Her wanderlust had always been strong, and the profession had allowed her freedom. It also meant I had to live with my dad, Charlie, in Washington. There were no hard feelings though. She made it up to me in the form of $40 plane tickets.

Alice continued flipping the pages of the magazine and making random comments about the clothes the stars wore. I grabbed a pack of Tic-Tacs and waited impatiently.

"Alice Brandon?"

My head snapped in the direction of the man's voice. It was coming from a good-looking blonde standing right behind us.

"Jasper Hale!" Alice face lit up with a smile. He nodded and opened his arms for a hug which she happily accepted. Apparently she knew this handsome stranger.

"It has been so long! What? Ten years?"

"Something like that," Alice grinned, "What have you been up to?"

"A little of this and that. I just moved here about two years ago to start my own business. I can't believe it is such a small world," Jasper drawled.

They stood there staring at one another for a few moments. A few _long _moments. Alice was grinning and this Jasper fellow grinned right back. I cleared my throat and, as I expected, Alice was jolted back into reality.

"Oh Jasper," Alice flourished, "This is Bella, my best friend." Jasper smiled and shook my hand gently. We exchanged 'nice to meet yous' and they chatted for a moment, lost in whatever memories they conjured up. I took the chance to give him the ole' once over.

He was attractive with wavy blonde hair that was a little long for my taste. He wore beat up leather cowboy boots and well fitted charcoal pants. A starched black shirt, black tie, and a black waistcoat finished off his outfit.

"Bella, did you hear that, Jasper went to school in Chicago. Maybe you could visit there… you've always wanted to go to that pizza place we saw on Food Network," Alice said.

"You're probably talking about Malnati's. They have fabulous deep dish pizzas. When were you thinking about going?" Jasper enquired.

"Tomorrow, practically," Alice laughed, waving her hands emphatically, "She's taking a bit of a hiatus from a relationship and needs some time to find herself." Her voice was dropped like she was telling the latest gossip. Her Southern roots were showing.

I clenched my jaw at her admissions.

"Soon." I answered simply, not even bothering to address what she had said. He just looked at me apologetically.

"Do you know where you're going to stay?" He asked.

"I don't even know where I am going," I replied, attempting to keep an even tone. Alice was buzzing like she'd been given a jolt of Red Bull and straight electricity. Who was this Jasper guy?

"Well, if you're interested, I've got a place there. My sister Rosalie just got married and had been living in my old apartment. I've got a tenant lined up, but they aren't moving in for another month. You are more than welcome to stay there."

"Oh Bella, I think that is an incredible idea! You'd only have to worry about food and entertainment. Makes the vacation that much better!" Alice was practically bouncing up and down.

"Of course, Jasper, I'd have to pay you for my stay, but that is a bit premature. I'm not even sure I want to visit Chicago." I attempted to kindly decline.

I don't even know this guy. Alice hasn't seen him in ten years. I'm not staying in his weird apartment. No matter how free it is.

"Don't be crazy. If Jasper is anything like the guy I knew ten years ago, he's got great hangouts and knows just where to let loose. And you know… that is what you said you wanted to do."

I rolled my eyes at her attempt to con me into this. I don't care how much 'letting loose' I needed to do. I wasn't doing it in a stranger's house. He could be a pervert with video cameras all over hoping to catch me undressing.

"Bella, I didn't mean to put you on the spot. I was just offering." He shrugged.

"No, I really think this could be good for her."

She wasn't letting me out of this one and I didn't know why. She'd never talked about this Jasper fellow, but the typically resigned Alice was replaced with a strangely carefree, giddy version. I had a sinking suspicion that this change had something to do with him.

I put my items on the black belt and watched them creep towards the register. I could go to the trouble of trying to find a cool town to visit, then do all of the research to locate good places to eat, fun things to do, etc. Or I could just let Jasper tell me where to go and what to do. It would take a considerable amount of pressure off of me.

"What the hell…" I sighed, "You promise me you don't have nanny cams all over your house? I don't want to see my ass on YouTube." I gave Jasper a suspicious look.

"No, I can assure you there are no nanny cams," he laughed.

"You said your sister was moving out. Is there any furniture? Sheets? Towels?" I quizzed.

"Yep, it is stocked and furnished. All you have to do is get groceries." This was sounding better and better.

"Then it's settled. I'm going to Chicago," I smiled. Alice clapped excitedly and gave Jasper a hug and started another conversation. I paid for my items and turned to collect Alice. She shuffled over to me, a look of bliss splashed across her features.

"Oh my God, Bella. Oh. My. God." Alice leaned into me, her head falling onto my shoulder.

"What? You're as creeped out about me staying in a strange city in a strange man's strange apartment?" I patted the top of her head, careful to not muss up her hair.

"I was in love with him in high school. I'm talking L-O-V-E," she sighed.

"So that is where the goo goo eyes came from."

"It was that noticeable?" She mumbled from my shoulder.

"Yes and stand up. He's coming over."

"Ladies, are we going to walk to my shop? I can give you the details about the apartment and a set of keys."

Alice nodded and looped his arm through his.

_Bold move_. I smiled and winked at her.

I followed their lead, thankful that the rain had stopped. Jasper kept polite conversation, filling me in on Alice's high school antics and their life in Texas. Apparently, the analytical tightwad I had grown to know and love wasn't always so tightly wound. She was always fun, but the old Alice sounded like a lot _more_ fun.

"Here we go girls, right in there." He pointed at a storefront. I followed his hand.

My breathing stopped. A sheen of sweat coated my brow in an instant. I felt faint.

_The Page on Pike_

This can't be happening. There was no way I could have pissed off karma so bad that I could be here.

_Jasper._

_Chicago._

_His store._

How had I not put two and two together?

This was Edward's Jasper.

Fuck. Shit. Hell.

How am I going to get out of this?

They were walking in the store; Alice oblivious to my sputtering behind her. She didn't seem to notice the significance of the store name.

"Alice…" I whispered, but got no response.

"Alice," I said with more force, but now she was well into the store.

Was it too late to duck and run?

"Bella?" Alice had emerged from inside the store, a quizzical look on her face. All I could do was shake my head vigorously.

"I can't," I choked, "He might be here."

"Who? Who might…" Alice's eyes got wide. She'd put it all together.

"Edward?" She asked, a tiny smile on her lips. She put her hands on my shoulders. I nodded my head, uttering words that I knew didn't make any sense. She wrapped her arms around me in a protective hug.

"You did say something about wanting to play," she whispered. I leaned back to look at her.

What happened to Alice? What happened to her planning my wedding and being mad at me about the mini break-up? Was she really condoning what I thought she was?

"Don't be such a prude. You thought it first. Now come on, I won't let you do anything you don't want to," she laughed and drug me into the bookstore.

I gripped my grocery sacks tightly. Alice ushered me to the back corner where Jasper had walked over to. I sat down in an overstuffed chair nearby and attempted to blend into the scenery.

"Bella, it'll only be a second. I'm going to get the keys and write down the directions. I'll be right back," Jasper said. I nodded and smiled weakly. Alice trotted along behind him, leaving me alone.

_Please don't be here. Please don't be here. Please don't be here._

A few minutes passed with no Edward sightings. Maybe karma didn't have it out for me.

I nervously checked my watch, wondering if Alice was aware of the time. My grocery bags were piled on my lap and I peaked in and snagged a doughnut from the box. This was a high carb, high calorie moment. There was no room for the likes of plums and grapes.

I nibbled on it contentedly, taking time to savor each sinful bite. Food always could take me away. Even cheap, day old Safeway doughnuts. When I was finished, I licked the icing from each finger and smiled.

_Oh, the joy (and distraction) a doughnut can bring._

"Good snack?" Edward's smooth voice broke up the silence.

"You know you really shouldn't be eating in here." My head spun in the direction of his voice. A crooked smile flashed over his handsome face. My insides turned to JelloJell-O.

"Sorry, I'm sorry. I… I…didn't make a mess." I put my hands up, fingers spread, defending my statement. I started to fidget and tried to stuff my things back in the grocery bags, but Edward sat down on the wide armrest. Any movement on my behalf stopped. I was frozen, paralyzed with fear.

"I just thought that you'd at least share," he said with the same smile. His hand reached out and fumbled through the bag.

"What have you got in here anyways? Let's see, doughnuts, grapes, plums… Do you mind?" He asked plucking a plum for himself, "I just love plums." I shook my head, allowing him to have it.

My knees were all but knocking together as he thumbed through my groceries. His hand was so close to my lady bits that a wild blush began its ascent to my face.

"I'm not stalking you," I managed to whisper. He smiled and rubbed the plum with his shirttail.

"It would be ok if you were." He took a bite of the plum. I tried not to stare, honestly I did, but I couldn't help myself. He was wearing jeans and a grey t-shirt. Pretty nondescript for him.

I started having flashbacks of his hands on my thighs, his lips on my neck, his tongue in my mouth. It was more than I could handle. I moved to get up, but his hand came down on my shoulder.

He stared at me for a moment, his dark green eyes pacing across the lines of my face. He said nothing, only smiled a bit more and took another bite from his plum. I reached up and pushed a tress of hair behind my ear.

"What brings you back to the store today, Bella? You're starting to be a regular around here."

"Jasper… he knows my best friend Alice. We met at the grocery store." I looked down at my lap, "He offered me his apartment in Chicago and I am going to take him up on it."

Edward nodded, seeming to understand. He didn't ask any questions, didn't want to know why I was going to Chicago or how long I was going to stay. He didn't even make a remark about the odds of our friends knowing each other. He just smiled at me and kept eating.

I checked my watch again out of habit.

"So, where is Jasper's office? I really need to get Alice back to work," I asked. The silence was all together uncomfortable. I wanted to tell him about Mike. I wanted to tell him more about my trip to Chicago. I really wanted to ask him how his day was going.

"It's back this way. I'll show you." He stood and I clamored to get up with all of my bags. He reached and offered to take something. I declined.

We walked through the familiar store and up to a closed door. He knocked twice and entered. Alice and Jasper were huddled over his desk talking quietly. They barely acknowledged our presence. I cleared my throat and waited.

"Alice, it is almost three… I thought you said you had some deadlines coming up today." I walked up to her and patted her on the shoulder. She looked up and laughed at whatever Jasper had said.

"Oh yeah, I called in and let them know I'd be out the rest of the day," she replied nonchalantly as if calling out was typical fare for her. In actuality, the last time I could recall her missing work was three years ago. She had acute appendicitis and spent four days in the hospital.

"Bella, I've got directions from the airport. Do you think you'll be flying in from Midway or O'Hare?" Jasper questioned. I furrowed my brow.

"I have no idea. It really just depends."

"Well then, I'll just give you directions from both." He started writing something on a sheet of paper. Edward started chuckling from behind me.

"Don't take any of his directions, Bella. Jasper here can't find his way out of a paper bag. I'd be happy to help you," Edward offered. Jasper scoffed indignantly and Alice finally looked at him, appraising him the way only Alice could.

"You must be Edward," she said, stretching out a hand towards him. "Bella told me about you."

I wanted to crawl out of the office. .

"Nice to meet you Alice," he shook her hand and did more of his silly grinning. He turned to looked at me, his cocky smile spoke loudly. I'd told my friend about him and he seemed pleased to know that he wasn't my dirty little secret.

"So are you going to hang out here?" I asked Alice, "I probably need to get back home and start packing. I've also got to call and arrange for my plane ticket."

"Yeah, I think Jasper and I are going to do a little catching up," she replied. She tried to hide her goo goo eyes, but failed. Horribly.

"Bella, here are the keys and directions from the airport," Jasper stood and handed me a folded up piece of paper and two brass keys. I looked over the directions to make sure I could follow them and shoved everything into my purse.

"I really appreciate you letting me do this," I said sincerely. He just waved his hand dismissively.

"I'm glad to do it. Any friend of Alice or _Edward_ is a friend of mine," he smiled and shot a look to Edward. I had to fight the urge to see how Edward reacted to that. My reaction? A furious blush, of course.

"Well, we'll have to talk again when I get back in town. I'll see you later." I smiled again in appreciation and turned to leave. Edward turned and followed close behind.

"How long are you planning on staying in Chicago?" He asked.

"I don't know," I shrugged, "I took off two weeks."

"And you're going by yourself?" His voice was soft and on the verge of shy. I made it to the front door and pushed out onto the sidewalk. He still followed.

"Yes, I am going alone. I'm taking some time to figure some things out."

_Oh_ was all he said. I continued walking in the direction of my apartment, not bothering to look and see if he was still behind me. I didn't know how to deal with this situation. Do I just let him follow me home? Was he really following me or just coincidentally going in the same direction?

"Bella," his voice was further away now, "I hope you have a nice time. Chicago is a great city. Pack a jacket; it is still cool this time of the year."

I turned to see him, moving a few paces towards him. He had stopped walking and was just standing there with his hands in his pockets. His lean forearms were flexed as though he was clenching his fists. A tight, but hopeful smile was on his face. His eyes were clouded with something I couldn't read. I didn't know him well enough to read his more clandestine emotions. I didn't know anything about the man.

"Thanks, I will." I just turned and stared walking away. I wasn't fully committed to the idea that Mike and I weren't going to work. I was equally uncommitted to the idea that Edward and I would. I didn't want to be one of those people who went on a 'break' and screwed anything that moved. That wasn't fair to anyone. I needed to just keep walking.

------------

_George Stanford – Big Drop_

I shoved t-shirts, a pair of rain boots, and underwear into my small suitcase. I padded to my closet and grabbed anything that I might possibly need and proceeded to cram it all in. Finally, I carefully organized my hanging clothes and snapped them into my rolling garment bag. My toiletries were packed and waiting in my bathroom.

I'd called my mom and she'd set me up with one first-class roundtrip ticket to Chicago leaving first thing the coming morning. I'd have to be at the airport by 6:30AM to make it through all of the security screens and baggage checks.

I had twelve hours to waste until check-in so I proceeded to prepare my apartment for my absence. I cleaned the bathroom, did the dishes, washed and folded a load of laundry and took out the garbage. I collapsed on the couch in a heap of Ajax and sweat and closed my eyes. Sleep was almost upon me when my cell beeped alerting me to a text message. I stretched to grab my phone off of the coffee table and opened a message from Alice.

_I'm sorry. I had to. It was necessary. _

_M.A.B._

I quickly wrote back.

_What? What did you do?_

_Bella Swan_

I waited a few minutes, but never received a response. I tried calling her, but she didn't pick up. I started to worry. I decided to get a shower and walk back to the bookstore to check on her.

I showered quickly and got dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. I blow dried my hair and threw it into a ponytail. I was slipping on my trainers when there was a knock at my door.

I walked slowly across the living room and peeked through the peep hole. I couldn't make out a face, just the back of a man's head.

"Who is it?" I called out through the closed door.

"It's me. It's Edward."

My heart immediately took up residence in my throat. I couldn't talk. I smoothed out the front of my t-shirt and tightened my ponytail.

"Alice told me how to find you. It's about your trip to Chicago. I have better directions and a list of interesting places to go. So you won't get bored, you know." Ok, so Alice was apologizing for sending temptation to my doorstep. _Literally._

I hesitated, but turned the lock and opened the door. I shyly looked at him through the crack. He smiled sheepishly and pushed a few pieces of paper towards me. I took them from him and pulled them inside the doorway.

"Look, I'm sorry to bother you. I just know how terrible Jasper is with directions. I didn't want you getting lost on your way there. Especially since you're going to be by yourself," he said, a small half-smile tugging at his lips. He nervously ran a hand through his hair and waited for me to say something.

"Oh, it's ok. I wasn't doing anything," I mumbled. He was shifting uncomfortably on the other side of the door. He looked like he was about to turn and run. Apprehension washed over me.

"Well, I'll let you get back to that then," he sighed and started to leave.

"Edward," I called out, "Do you want to come in?" I opened the door wider to him. He stood in the hall unsure of how to proceed. I chewed my lip nervously. I smiled a bit and stepped back to invite him in.

"Sure, if you're sure," he replied, his eyebrows raised in question. He studied me carefully, attempting to judge my sincerity.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Cautiously, he stepped into my apartment and I closed the door behind him. The rush of air sent a wave of vanilla and pipe smoke wafting towards me. I closed my eyes and relished in the musky aroma.

"Can I get you something to drink? I've got Coke, water, white wine…" I offered.

"No, I'm ok," he replied. We stood awkwardly in the small foyer for a short moment.

"Alright, well, come in and have a seat. I'm going to grab myself something to drink. I'll be right back." I led him into the living room and gestured towards the couch. I rounded the corner into the kitchen and fought the urge to grab the bottle of Moscato that was chilling in the refrigerator. Instead, I grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and chugged. I wet my fingertips and patted my flushed cheeks and forehead.

I wasted a few more moments wiping down the countertops, but as soon as I started wiping off the microwave I knew I had to stop. Edward wasn't going to just disappear. I was the one who invited him inside. I squared my shoulders and walked as confidently as possible back into my living room.

He was standing at the fireplace studying the random photos that dotted the wooden mantel. His hand would occasionally reach up and brush the frames as he moved from one picture to the next.

"That's my mom," I said as he got to the photo of me and Renee at my graduation from the University of Washington. I was dressed in cap and gown and my mom wore a goofy grin.

"You look just like her." He glanced over his shoulder at me and nodded as if to confirm his statement. He ran a finger over the glass and moved on to the next photo.

I watched him for a few seconds as he continued his examination of my photographs. I debated on what to say to him. Unsure of whether or not I should broach the subject of our kiss, I tried to come up with 'safe' topics of conversation. I tossed around such items as the weather, what he had for dinner, and whether or not he'd filed his taxes yet. None of that would work. I wanted to talk to him about more than just boring filler. He'd shed so much light on my life that I felt the need to throw more of my confusion out there for him to sort through.

Surely he was curious as to my situation with Mike. He'd been so understanding and… noble before. Who's noble anymore? I thought that was a trait that went the way of the dinosaurs.

I sat down on the couch and carefully arranged the throw pillows as a barrier. He'd be forced to sit clear on the other end of the sofa. I waited as patiently as I could for him to finish looking around and pretended to be interested in my nails.

Finally, after he realized that I'd sat down, he joined me. My makeshift pillow wall proved to be a poor barrier as he casually moved them to rest behind him. I nervously played with my ponytail, curling the ends of my dark hair around my finger.

Edward sat seemingly comfortable on the cushion next to me. He crossed a booted foot over his knee and turned so that he was looking at me more directly. I took in the relaxed look that he wore and hoped that it was somewhat reflected in my own features. I felt anything but relaxed.

In a word I was conflicted. In the big picture scheme of things, I didn't know what I wanted. I didn't know what Edward wanted either. I knew Mike wanted me to figure it all out and come back to him in two weeks, but that seemed so unattainable at the moment. I was beginning to feel overwhelmed and reckless… like a juggler on a tightrope.

_Take control Swan._

"What's going on here?" I asked. He turned his green eyes on me and I tried to soften the frustrated look on my face.

"I don't know. You invited me in." His tone wasn't as kind as I had become used to and his lips were now set in a hard line. We stared at one another for a moment, the sexual tension that I recalled being rampant was now diminished. A feeling of disorientation replaced it.

"I'm not sure what I expected or if I expected anything for that matter," I sighed, disheartened, "Things are weird now aren't they?"

"No. Things aren't weird for me, Bella," he replied, his face still stony, "I just need you to tell me what to expect from you. I need for you to tell me why you wanted me to come in here."

I huffed at his words. He was the one who showed up at my apartment. Who was he to have expectations of me? He was pushing me towards action and I didn't feel up to it. I wasn't ready to make any decisions. Everything was too unstable. I glared at him with a sour look on my face.

I would much prefer Sexy Salesman Edward over this Serious Edward. Any day. It was easy for me to get caught up in his smooth lines and inappropriately close interactions. I could get lost in his words and the feeling of his warm breath on my skin. I could forget the fact that I am unhappy in my current relationship and imagine a lust filled encounter with a stranger.

But with Serious Edward I found reality, not a romance novel.

"If you aren't going to talk then I am." He abruptly stood up from the couch and shrugged off his leather jacket. "I like you Bella. I like you and I know that you are in a serious relationship with another man. I don't know what you want and I _know _that you don't know what you want."

He paced, tugging at his beautiful hair. His strides were short due to the fact that my living room was small. I tried to ignore the way his jeans hugged his body. I tried to ignore the fact that he told me he liked me. I was suddenly reduced to a thirteen year old, blushing violently.

_Cue the sexual tension._

"I liked kissing you the other day," he whispered, lifting his eyes to meet mine. "It makes me mad to know that I can't have you. I'm not used to not getting what I want."

He smiled half-heartedly and tucked his hands into his pockets. If I thought I was blushing before, I didn't know anything. My cheeks caught on fire and a sweat formed on the back of my neck.

"Are you blushing because what I am telling you makes you uncomfortable?" He asked.

I shook my head.

"I am blushing because what you're saying makes me flustered. It make me excited and confused," I voiced.

"Why confused?"

"Because I'm trying to figure out why I am attracted to you. I don't know how I can want you so much when I'm supposed to be in a fully committed relationship with my fiancé."

He smiled, his lips turning up into a smug grin. He stepped around the coffee table and sat down beside me.

"Why are you going to Chicago?"

"I told you, I've got some things to sort out."

"Did you tell Mike?"

"Sort of. He saw us in the window." I scrubbed my face with the palms of my hands.

"No, did you tell him what you told me?"

"Yes."

"And what did he say? Did he tell you what you needed to hear?"

"He gave me the opportunity to find myself. He gave me a few days away from us."

"That wasn't what you wanted was it?"

I shook my head. He was quiet.

He laid his hand, palm up, in the space between us. His thumb brushed the seam of my blue jeans, making slow circles on the denim.

"It's a shame," he whispered, "Because I really hoped my decision would be made for me."

"What do you mean?"

"I had hoped that he'd say the right thing and he would do what he was supposed to keep you happy. Instead, he left the door open for me," he paused, casting his green eyes on me, "I don't know much about you Bella, but I know I can make you happy."

My heart sputtered in my chest.

I believed him.

-----------

_Falling Slowly - Glen Hansard& Marketa Irglova_

**Edward.**

"How do you know what makes me happy?"

How did I? It wasn't something that I could answer in so many words. It was a feeling I had. It was an impression she made on me. It was something I wanted to do.

"I don't know what makes you happy, but I do know that I am capable of making you happy."

She just stared at me making me incredibly self-conscious. I waited for her to burst into laughter and shove me out the door, but she didn't. She merely sighed and leaned her head on my shoulder.

"This is insane, you know," she mumbled.

"You aren't supposed to be in my life, telling me you like me and that you want to make me happy. Two days ago, you were just a distraction. Someone who I thought about when I was sitting in my office or riding in a cab. Two days ago, you were the cute guy at the bookstore that took me to lunch, kept a respectable distance, and let me vent. But now," she paused, waving her hands emphatically, "Now you're sitting on my couch and I'm fighting the urge to kiss you and hold your hand and let you make me happy."

She wanted to hold_ my_ hand.

"Two days ago, I hoped that you'd just show up in my store so that I could talk to you and see you blush. Two days ago, I'd never kissed someone who was in a relationship. Hell, two days ago, I _really _hoped you'd figure things out with him. But now all I want to is hold your hand and kiss you and I don't care if you never talk to him again," I admitted in one long breath.

Everything was moving at light speed. I wasn't supposed to be saying these things. I wasn't supposed to get caught up in the moment. I was supposed to sit back and play it cool, but I wasn't feeling cool at all. I was feeling raw and out of control. She was all around me; the scent of her hair floating towards me in a cloud of honey and grapefruit. Her skin was just out of my reach; the touch of her lips just waiting for me to take hold.

Her beautiful fingers closed the gap between us and she wrapped her hand around mine. Our clasped hands rested in the crack of the cushions. I looked at her and her face was shy, her eyes refused to meet mine.

I crooked a finger under her chin and lifted her face to mine.

"I'm not promising perfect. I'm not promising anything really. I can be a distraction if that makes you happy, if that's what you need." I put it out there. My intentions. My emotions. My dignity. Everything. If this all blew up in my face, I could only hope that it was worth it.

"Then I'd like to see where this goes," she replied. Her sweet breath warmed my lips and I let myself waver. I placed a warm hand on each side of her face and rubbed her earlobes between my thumbs and forefingers. I read the emotion in her eyes; they granted me permission to do what we were both hoping for.

I pressed my lips to hers and I felt her take in a sharp breath of air before her lips responded. She pushed me down on the couch. She laid her body against me and crushed her mouth onto mine. I let her kiss me, allowing her to set the pace. I needed to see how much she wanted from me.

Her tongue traced my bottom lip and her fingers made their way to the back of my neck. She cradled my head and massaged my hairline. Our tongues caressed and I placed my hands on the small of her back. I slid a hand under her t-shirt and stroked the silky skin there. She moaned into my mouth and I felt myself begin to get hard.

I cringed internally, unable to stop the physical reaction that I was having to her. What could she expect? Between the way she smelled, her soft weight against me, and the magic her tongue was working in my mouth, it was a wonder I hadn't already ripped the jeans off of her supple ass.

I anticipated her stopping, but was very pleasantly surprised when she straddled my hips and ground herself against me. This fucking bride was going to be the end of me.

She moved her lips to my ear and nibbled on my earlobe. I groaned as my traitorous hips tipped upwards to meet hers. I palmed her fleshy ass and pressed her against me. The friction was both pleasing and dangerous. Her hand moved from supporting her weight to my shoulder. She trailed her fingers down my arm to my hand took hold of it. She bent it and placed my hand on her covered breast.

My eyes nearly rolled back in my head. Her advances were anything but subtle and it made want to cry and take off my pants all at the same time. She was sinful. She was mysterious. She was fucking amazing. And I had only known her for all of a few days.

I grazed her breast with my fingertips. Her tits were fabulous. Well, I'd only had the blessed opportunity to touch one of them, but it was remarkable. All natural. Not to small, but not too large. The perfect handful. I could only pray that I'd have the opportunity to behold them without the veil of cotton.

"I can't promise you anything either," she whispered between frantic kisses. I nodded in acknowledgement.

She stopped kissing me. From her perch on my hips, she pressed her hands against my sternum and locked her elbows. I reached up and smoothed the sides of her hair, gently I pulled the elastic that held her hair up. Her shiny brown locks fell down on either side of my face, tenting us in her honeyed aroma.

"No promises," I confirmed.

"No promises," she repeated.

-----------

**Bella.**

I sat staring at him for nearly an hour. We'd fallen asleep on the couch. He was barely moving, only the simple rise and fall of his chest. I studied his face, sleeping, soft, devoid of emotion. I played out futures with him. I pictured vacations and destinations. Who would carry what luggage and where we would eat. I wondered which side of the bed he slept on. Whether he used one pillow or two.

We didn't know each other really. I'd shared some deep secrets with him. We'd shared a few stolen kisses and a hundred fleeting glances. I'd spent a few hours of sleep dreaming of a life outside of the one I was entering into. I'd imagined someone rescuing me from it all. He seemed interested in the job.

But I knew it couldn't happen. This was something I was going to have to rescue myself from. I wanted to be strong and opinionated. I wanted to make a decision and not cower from the consequences. I wanted to be the person I'd worked so hard to become and had so carelessly thrown away three years ago.

It was 5:45AM and I had a plane to catch.

I carefully hoisted myself up off of the couch, mindful not to wake his sleeping form. He shifted and turned onto his stomach. His arms curled under a throw pillow and his cheek rested against it. I couldn't stay. I had to be the one strong one.

I padded into the bathroom and brushed my teeth. I didn't bother changing clothes; I just tugged on my trainers and tiptoed to the foyer. I looked over my shoulder and could only make out his bare feet poking over the armrest. My heart ached, but this was something I had to do.

I cracked open the door and, as quietly as was possible, shoved my luggage out into the hall.

* * *

**Well, what did you think? And remember, the more you review the more happy I get, the more writing I get done.**

**Me=Fat Kid | Reviews=Cake | Happy=New Chap**

**Fat Kid+Cake=Happy**

**---------**

**I've got a few recs to throw out there...**

**Why Do You Let Me Stay Here - By Famouslyso... because it is awesome and fabulous (Twilighted).**

**Gravity - By Nightshade... because the angsty deliciousness nearly killed me with goodness (Twilighted).**

* * *


	7. Air

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or these characters.

* * *

I collapsed into the seat, exhausted from so little sleep and the hustle of the airport.

The flight was undersold and there were plenty of seats to choose from. I was fortunate enough to find three empty seats in which I spread out my stuff. I plopped my purse, laptop bag and jacket down beside me and closed my eyes.

The flight attendant's voice rang out overhead and proceeded to drone on about onboard procedures. I zoned out completely and hoped for a turbulence free trip. The flight was just over four hours and I planned to use the uninterrupted block of time to plan out my time in Chicago.

I sluggishly unzipped the pocket of my laptop bag and pulled out the neatly creased sheets of paper Edward had delivered. I unfolded them and used my palms to flatten them against the tray table. There, in surprisingly neat handwriting, were the directions to Jasper's apartment. They were easy to follow, complete with both landmarks and distances. I was thankful for that because I was terrible with both cardinal directions and judging distances.

I flipped to the next page and read his suggestions for entertainment, dining, and shopping. He'd given each restaurant a rating. He'd drawn sad looking little squiggles. _What were those? Spoons?_ The more _spoons_, the better the food. Each entertainment spot received star ratings and the stores received dollar signs. He was very comprehensive in both his descriptions and directions, offering little suggestions on what to eat and what time I should show up for the best bands.

I smiled at his thoroughness. I turned the pages over looking for more information, but they were blank. I was slightly disappointed. To be honest I was also searching for a note, some additional communication from him. I couldn't be too upset; I'd left him alone in my apartment without so much as a goodbye. I just hoped he'd have the good sense to lock up before he left.

I made a mental note to have Alice stop by and lock the deadbolt.

The pilot gave us the go-ahead to turn on our electronics and I tugged my iPod from my bag and switched it on. I plugged in my ear buds and chose random songs. Songs of my youth mixed with the not so eclectic taste of my fiancé. Even my iPod had been inundated with his personal taste. I cringed and shoved the thoughts of Mike to the back of my mind. I settled on a random playlist of songs and snuggled back into my hard seat.

_You're here to work on you. Not him. _

I grabbed my wallet calendar from my bag and opened it up over the tray table. I counted the days until my return flight. I had eleven days to sort and shuffle my life into some semblance of harmony. I poked through Edward's list, writing dinner spots down on random days, spreading the epicurean adventures out over the length of my stay. I jotted down days where I'd go shopping at the various flea markets, farmer's markets, and other interesting shopping excursions he had listed.

All in all, my eleven days in Chicago would be rather eventful.

I smiled, pleased with my progress and put his list and my calendar back in my bag.

The flight attendant came around and brought me a Coke and pack of pretzels. I munched distractedly and stared out the window. I'd tried on many occasions over the past few days to process what I had done and what I was doing. Each time, I'd wound up soggy with tears and floating in my bathtub.

Fear. Fear was really the catalyst for this whole thing. My fears of rejection and inadequacy held me locked inside of a well built prison. Just thinking about my past and my future was enough to make me feel panicked.

I'd had so many dreams.

I'd wanted to travel, be a vagabond. Have nothing but a backpack and a few dollars to get me from one town to the next. I had always wanted to learn a new language, to get a tattoo, maybe even get a Brazilian bikini wax. I enjoyed going to the movies by myself, strolling the grocery store alone, buying myself flowers. Then it dawned on me. This was my chance to get back in the habit of being me.

I whipped out Edward's notes and began scribbling a list on the back. Stupid things, silly things, important things - I wrote them all down.

They'd be done before I left Chicago. That I knew for sure.

--------------

I crammed a carton of milk into the fridge and pushed the door closed. I had just gotten back to the apartment from a little grocery shopping. The small market down the block had the most wonderful stuff and I splurged, allowing myself the pleasure of fine cheese and great jams.

I made quick work of the remaining bags of food, putting them away and keeping the shelves neatly stocked. I smiled and enjoyed the moment. I laid out a zucchini and onion on the cutting board and pulled out a frying pan. Dinner was my favorite meal to prepare and I was fully prepared to savor the experience. Not having to worry about someone else's meal preferences was refreshing. I could fix precisely what I wanted and eat it at any hour of the day.

It was nearing 4:30PM and I was hungry, so dinner it is.

I opened random drawers until I found the utensils. I grabbed out a heavy chef's knife and laid it on the counter. I rinsed my hands at the sink and took in the view from the window there. The kitchen looked out over a small side street. I could make out small rooftop gardens on the shorter buildings across the cobbled drive. I sighed contentedly. This trip was the best thing I'd done in years and I was only two days in.

My thoughts were interrupted by a quite knock on the door. I grabbed a dishtowel and dried my hands nervously. Fear rose up in my throat.

What if Mike found out where I was and had come to see me?

No, surely Alice was a better friend than that.

I'd told my mom I was going to Chicago, but no more details than that. My dad only knew I was on vacation. Alice was the only one who really knew where I was.

Oh, and Jasper.

And Edward.

The thought alone sent a shiver down my spine and bile into my throat.

I wasn't prepared to deal with what the fuck ever Edward was.

I'd been such a tease – agreeing to letting him "be my distraction." Kissing him and shamelessly groping him, all the while enjoying it thoroughly. It was I who skulked away like a coward the next morning.

Yeah, I was a cruel cocktease and I was paying my dues. The painful throb between my legs was most apparent in the morning after a restless evening of sexually charged dreams, but it never really went away.

Another knock sent a painful blush to my cheeks. There is no doubt that whoever was on the other side of the door would fear for my health. I probably looked like my blood pressure was through the roof. The speeding thud of my heart would cause them to worry as well.

I stood at the door, hand poised to turn the knob while chewing my lip feverishly. I choked out a 'who is it' and waited for a response. Who the hell doesn't have a peephole?

Someone cleared their throat.

"Your distraction."

_Fuck me._

I panicked. My eyes darted around the room for a fire escape, but there was nothing.

I was trapped.

Cornered.

In big fucking trouble.

I ran a hand down the front of my t-shirt and through my hair. He knocked again.

"Won't you let me in? I came an awful long way," his velvet voice tracked in through the cracks in the door. I bounced nervously from one foot to the other, my hands clenched in tight fists at my side. My face was twisted in terror and indecision.

"Bella," he spoke quietly, "You left without saying goodbye."

I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

_Maybe if I hold my breath long enough, I'll pass out and when I come to he'll be gone._

"I've got a key to this place, so either open up or I'm coming in. I just wanted you to feel like you had a choice." His voice changed to light and playful.

I coughed out another breath and heard what I assumed to be his luggage hit the wood floor of the hallway.

"I'm getting the key out. I hope your dressed," he laughed huskily, "Or maybe I don't."

I couldn't breathe. I clutched my hands to my chest and had a complete meltdown, freak out, panic attack in the three seconds it took for him to push open the door.

The door swung slowly. I could see the tips of his fingers wrapped around the white wood of the door. I tried to rearrange my face, wipe away the fright and replace it with something else. Anything else.

I'm not sure what expression I wound up wearing, but judging by Edward's reaction, it wasn't too off putting. He smiled at me warmly.

"Were you just standing there?" He asked, his eyebrows knit together in disbelief. I could only nod wordlessly. He chuckled and dropped his keys into the bowl on the table next to the door.

He was wearing that green plaid shirt with the silly mother of pearl buttons. His hair was ever the spectacle of perfection and discord. His Ray-Bans were tucked in his front pocket and that familiar scent wrapped itself around me.

"You look nice," I blurted, sort of surprised that my voice was functioning, regardless of what I was saying. He smiled and dragged his leather bag through the doorway, nudging the door closed with his foot.

"Eight hours in an airport and on an airplane will do that to a fellow," he replied sarcastically, his hands on his hips and a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

His sexy mouth.

His sinful mouth.

His distracting mouth.

"Don't you want to know why I'm here?" He asked, slowly closing the space between us.

"I think I know," I whispered. I nervously crooked my fingers and raked my hair over one shoulder. I tried to avoid Edward's gaze, fearing that I'd be wrong in my assumptions.

Did I want to be right or wrong, though? That was the question.

He was close now. I could reach out and touch him. I could take one button at a time and…

"Do you want me to tell you? Why I'm here that is," he whispered, his warm breath fanning out over my cheeks. I inhaled lightly taking in his sweet scent in short breaths.

_I want you to kiss me again, not talk to me._

The thought tore through my mind and sent heat everywhere from my ears to my knees.

I merely nodded, fearing more word vomit if I allowed my voice to answer. I looked deep into his now darkening green eyes. He licked his pink lips and allowed me the vision of his tongue creeping out to tempt me. I could sense my face betraying me; I could only pray that my mouth wasn't hanging open.

"I didn't get a goodbye kiss."

My body caught fire as I watched his lips draw nearer to my own. I licked mine in anticipation. Seconds felt like minutes as he descended upon me. Desire was ringing in my ears and coursing through my veins. Promises, commitments, weddings… any thoughts left my mind as quickly as the breaths that escaped my lungs.

His mouth met mine and his fingers brushed up my arms. The hairs stood up with each feathered touch of his fingertips. My hands ghosted up his chest, fingering each button on their ascent to the back of his neck. I kneaded the flesh, tugging lightly at the wispy hair there. With each tug, I pushed his mouth into mine. His lips parted and he sighed into my mouth.

I sucked in his breath, taking it into myself, and relished the tightness in my chest that it provided.

My mind was clear, no longer confused or frantic. I was calm and focused. I was going to experience this _distraction_ and enjoy it for all it was worth. Because I was greedy and reckless and being driven by desires instead of etiquette.

His strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. His lips left mine and moved to my neck. The ridge of his nose traced along my jaw line and I could hear him take in a sharp breath.

"You smell amazing," he whispered hoarsely, his voice was thick with lust. He licked the crest of my ear, dropping open-mouthed kisses down the curve of my neck until he reached the neck of my t-shirt. I whimpered when he stopped his assault on my skin. I forced my heavy lidded eyes open and looked up at him.

He was beautiful and it was impossible for me to stop myself. I threw my arms tight around his neck and hoisted myself up, wrapping both legs around his waist. I could feel the hardness of his arousal and I pressed myself against him. A rich moan fell from his lips and encouraged me on.

I kissed him hard and unapologetically.

"Bedroom," was all I could manage to eek out in between kisses. He grabbed at my waist, his hands moving from my hips upwards as he stumbled around the apartment. One hand held me tightly against him and the other snaked under my t-shirt and tickled the skin it found. His fingertips grazed over each rib on their way up.

He reached for each doorknob as he moved us through the hallway. Opening and closing each door as he searched for the bedroom. I clung to him, moving my hips against his rhythmically. A moan escaped me when his fingers fished under the edge of my bra, skimming the tender flesh of my breast.

"Edward," I moaned as his hand palmed my breast. Finally feeling his warm hand on my bare skin made every fantasy I had about him pale in comparison to the real thing. I wasn't creative enough to even imagine what he made me feel.

"Bella, I want you so much. I've thought of nothing but you since I woke up alone in your apartment." His voice was deep and wanting. He finally opened the door to the room I had taken to staying in and swiftly moved to the bed. His free arm carelessly brushed aside the items I'd left lying on the bed. They fell to the floor with a clatter.

He laid me down gently, his eyes fixed onto mine for further permission. My ankles were still crossed behind his back and he was leaning over the bed, his arms locked on either side of me. I was in no mood to play in half-measures. My hands flew to the buttons on his shirt and I smiled as I unsnapped one. He watched me carefully, a grin pulled at his lips.

"What?" He asked, allowing me to continue removing his shirt.

"Silly buttons," I chuckled, "I just want to rip this shirt off."

"Well, do it. They are snaps anyway," he smiled, dipping his head down to my neck and kissing the hollow at the base of my throat. And so I did, I grabbed the green plaid fabric in each hand and yanked. I received a satisfying series of snaps and his chest was exposed.

My eyes widened as I took in his bare chest. I drew my eyes across and down the pale flesh before my hands connected with his smooth skin. I leaned up and kissed his skin, pulling in the concentrated scent there.

_Pipe smoke and vanilla. _

I sighed against his chest, my warm breath tickling his oversensitive skin. He pushed me back down onto the bed and shrugged out of his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. I laid there and stretched my arms up above my head, well aware of the fact that I was thrusting my breast out towards him. In fact, I was rather hopeful that he would take the cue and get rid of my t-shirt. I'd hate to have to undress myself, but I wouldn't hesitate.

His teeth found his bottom lip and he sucked it in. His hands grasped each side of my waist and rose higher pushing up the cotton until it reached the swell of my breasts. He smiled widely and stared boyishly at them. I couldn't fight the smile that crept to my lips.

He began to slowly inch up my shirt, exposing the light blue bra that was underneath, but rejected that idea and impatiently pulled it off, carefully making sure it cleared my face.

"Fuck me Bella, you're tits are fantastic," he groaned, wrapping a hand over each lace covered breast.

"Get rid of the bra and they're even better," I replied, a smug smile set on my lips. His eyes closed and his jaw jutted out the slightest bit. A hand shot behind me and deftly unhooked my bra. He pulled the lace away from my skin and up my arms, throwing it behind him. He groaned again and dipped his head low. His breath was now hot against my skin. I closed my eyes tight and let my hand travel up the lean flesh of his back to rest in the copper mess that was his hair.

He nuzzled my plump skin with his nose and placed little kisses at the swell between my ribs and breast. My fist tightened in his hair and applied light pressure to encourage his movements. His tongue captured the stiff peak of my nipple and I responded with a satisfied groan. He moved from one breast to the other, doling out equal pleasure.

"Edward," I moaned, pulling his chin towards mine, "Kiss me again." I smiled at him, the seductive smirk curling my features to mimic the lust that was running rampant inside of me. His green eyes tightened with a smile and he moved up my body, effectively lying down on top of me. The satisfying weight of his body mixed with the wonder that was his kisses.

I wrapped my calves around the backs of his denim cover legs. He was hard, his body pressed decisively against me making me shiver. I tipped my hips to feel pressure against my aching center. Need flashed through me and my hands found their way to his belt buckle.

I fisted and fought with it until it was undone and his fly followed quickly. I pushed his jeans down, but they bunched at his thighs. I huffed and he chuckled. Pushing himself up and off of the bed, he bent to untie his boots and toed them off. Slowly. He was moving so slowly. His stepped out of his jeans and stood before me in all of his lean glory. I sighed. The sight alone caused a puddle to form in my panties.

I lifted my leg and drew my toe against the band of his boxers. I looked at him suggestively and playfully slipped a finger into my mouth. He pushed the navy boxers down and stepped towards me, his erect penis standing at full attention. He took my foot into his hands, placing wet kisses along my ankle. His hands massaged up my denim clad legs until they found the button of my jeans. He ran one hand up my stomach and kneaded my breast as the other pushed down my pants to reveal my lacy underwear. I wriggled out of the jeans and pulled him on top of me.

I scooted my hips and rolled us so that I was on top. There was no fear or apprehension about being completely exposed in front of the man I'd known for such a short period of time. He felt comfortable beneath me with his hands on my thighs. I felt comfortable perched on top of his rock hard cock. It was all comfortable and trust me when I say it was about to get even more comfortable.

I pulled his face to mine and sucked on his bottom lip, nibbling at the plump flesh. Edward inched his hand up my thigh. His thumbs drew slow circles on my heated flesh. His fingertips reached the lace of my panties and dipped beneath them. I shivered against his lips, our tongues dancing together softly.

He took his time and I could only hope he was savoring each movement as much as I was.

I jerked as his long finger snuck into my wet folds. Slipping through the slick flesh, he appraised my readiness. A smirk crossed his lips and I could feel a wave of self-satisfaction come over him.

"You must want me as much as I want you," he uttered. I could only nod and moan as the sensation that his touch brought over me prevented speech. His finger slid painfully slow up and down my slit. Teasing me. Torturing me. Pleasuring me.

"Please Edward," I whimpered. He just laughed lightly and leaned forward to capture my breast, sucking on my hardened nipple. His movements never sped up; instead they just became more intense. His thumb made a connection with my swollen clit and I the familiar buildup began in my stomach. I grunted and pleaded with him for more, but he was the embodiment of control.

He rolled us onto our side and I stole an opportunity to return the favor. I reached down between us and raked my nails over the rippled skin of his chest and abs. I feathered my fingers over him, feeling his skin tense with each touch, until I found his dick. It was hard and warm. I flicked my thumb over the tip and smiled when he groaned my name in response.

I wrapped my thin fingers around the base and gave him a meaningful tug. He was well endowed and my mind jumped to imagine him inside of me.

_Oh the places we would go._

"Bella," he murmured. I just kissed him and continued with the slow and torturous strokes, keeping pace with the sinful pleasures he was giving me. I sped my pace and he followed suit, dipping his fingers into my dripping core. He curled and pumped his fingers into me tempting an orgasm from deep within.

The thick ball of a release was heavy in my loins and I knew it wouldn't be long. He simultaneously tweaked my nipple and thumbed my clit until I was dizzy with want.

"Edward, enough of this," I groaned against his mouth, "I need you to fuck me." I attempted to take control.

My eyes were closing as I neared the eminent orgasm. I tried to keep up with my stroking him, but the building within me limited my motor functions. I was only able to feel his fingers inside of me and his mouth on me.

"Soon enough, love, soon enough," was all he would say. I ground my hips into his hand trying to bring about my release. My hands left him and made their way to my breasts. I took over for him, squeezing and kneading myself.

"Fuck, Bella, that is the sexiest thing I've ever seen," he whispered into my ear. I pried my eyes open only to see his lust ridden eyes gazing down at my hands playing on my chest. With that, his movements sped and I was seconds away when his hand left me.

I cried out with disbelief and disappointment. He immediately rolled me onto my back and hovered over me. In one swift motion, he ripped the lace underwear from my body. I could feel the tip of his cock at my entrance and I curled my hips to meet him.

He smiled his sex smile and in a fluid movement he was buried deep inside of me.

"Edward, fuck. That feels so good."

He groaned in response and began to pump in and out of me.

"Ma'am," he moaned.

"Ma'am," he repeated.

"Ma'am."

My eyes snapped open and I was back on the plane. The plump face of the flight attendant stared back at me. I immediately blushed, mortified that I might have been talking in my sleep.

"Ma'am, the pilot is beginning his descent and has turned on the seatbelt sign. You'll need to sit up and get ready for landing," she smiled.

"Oh, yes, of course." I shuffled to right myself and snapped my seat belt fastened. I fanned my heated face and briefly considered fanning my lady bits. This was a terrible trick my subconscious played on me.

And on a plane no less.

I could only pray that I'd not said anything in my erotic slumber. My eyes darted around the plane and I searched the faces of those around me. No one seemed to be in on my dream.

I attempted to distract myself by putting away my things. I pulled my hair back into a pony tail and prepared for landing. The plane set down smoothly and taxied towards our gate.

I slipped on my jacket and mentally recited the alphabet in French. I had to do something to rid my complexion of its strawberry glow.

As we arrived at the gate, I stood and prepared to run down the aisle and out of this plane. I needed to get a bottle of water and a change of underwear. This was unreal. I scolded myself for such an active imagination.

Old lady after old lady passed by me until I was the final passenger to leave. I walked quietly down the aisle towards the cockpit.

_Fucking cockpit._

A row of grinning flight attendants wished each passenger well and I flashed a smile at them as I approached the exit.

"Have a nice time in Chicago and thank you for flying Delta."

"Thanks," I muttered and hoisted my bags over one shoulder.

"Be sure to have_ lots_ of fun with Edward."

My head snapped towards the group of ladies and all three gave me a big wink and a grin.

_I hope they don't know my mom. She'll never let me live this one down._

* * *

**Well?**

**I know, I know... this one seems a bit short. I'm well into the next chapter, so depending on how many reviews I get, you may get some more Bookward soon. **

**Please review. I love each and every one!**

**Huge thanks to my beta Famouslyso. Without whom, my ma'ams would be misspelled. :D**


	8. Still

Hi Everyone…

A thousand apologies for my pause between posts. I've been dueling with real life. (I know lame excuse)

What got me back and writing was your fabulous reviews! I am terrible at responding, but don't think for one second that I don't read them. Keep 'em coming.

I was nominated for an award at the Indie Twific Awards!!! Thank you to those who nominated **The Sweetest Thing**. I'm nominated for the **Best Alternate Universe Human WIP**!!! Please visit . to vote!! (If that link doesn't work, hop over to my profile. I've linked the Voting Booth from there!)

I'm posting this without having my fabulous beta Famouslyso review it, so be prepared for grammar fail.

I'll shut up. See you below.

* * *

I sat on the couch. My neck was stiff from the little sleep I'd managed to get.

A hazy light filtered in through the gauzy curtains that hung over the windows. A stained glass light catcher threw speckles of color over the carpet. My eyes moved lazily across the room. Disappointment and confusion filled me.

She was gone. She'd left me asleep on the couch. I had already searched for a note – a bit of paper with a goodbye, any final communication – but there was nothing.

I sort of understood it. If I removed my ego from the situation and tried not to take it as a personal rejection, I got why she left. She was trying to start over. She was rebuilding a life that she had allowed to fall apart. She was building over existing foundations and that took a lot of work.

A lot of time alone.

A lot of sorting through.

So, I forced myself not to feel rejected. I forced myself to remember what Jasper had said – that if I saved her now, I'd always be saving her.

And so I waded, ankle deep in self-pity, out of her apartment and down the street in the direction of the bookstore.

-------

I cowered in the bathroom stall avoiding the knowing faces of all of the women in the bathroom. With my purse on knees, I fanned myself in an attempt to remove the unnatural red color that had taken up a near constant residence on my cheeks.

I peeked through the cracks in the door. A long line of women wrapped around the expansive airport bathroom. I tapped my feet nervously and tried to make out the faces of the women on the plane. The same women who had heard me utter God knows what while in the throes of my passionate dream sequence. I didn't see anyone I recognized.

I stepped out of the stall and walked quickly to wash my hands. I looked around, paranoia written all over my face, and took the walk of shame. So what if everyone acted cool, I knew they knew. I'd be surprised if it didn't come over the PA system.

_The white zone is for immediate loading and unloading of passengers only. There is no stopping in the red zone. Please pay special attention to Ms. Bella Swan, she had a naughty dream and told an entire plane about it from her deep slumber. _

I crushed my hands to my face, finding little comfort in the cool touch of my palms to the fiery skin of my flushed cheeks. My embarrassment was mixed with a tinge of guilt and something that felt like excitement. Aggravated with myself and my basic inability to keep my emotions in check, I fought the urge to run to the luggage carousel.

When I finally made it through the busy airport, I found my solitary suitcase making rounds on the luggage belt. I heaved the bag over the railing and down to the tiled floor before I bounded off in the direction of the metro system.

In my mind, I fought with the fear I was feeling.

I was fearful that I was making the wrong choice in escaping to Chicago. Fearful that I may have ruined my relationship with the one person I'd managed to dedicate myself to for an extended period of time. Fearful that if I didn't fix whatever was making me want someone other than the man I'd pledged to marry, I'd never be alright. But how can you fix something you're not sure is even broken?

I followed the signs that directed me to the subway lines. I tugged out Edward's note to find out which line to take. I quickly purchased a pass and waited with as much patience as I could muster for the train to arrive.

------------

I made it back to my apartment and changed clothes quickly. I couldn't stand to catch the smell of her on my clothes again. It was torture, just as sweet as it was painful.

I picked up my discarded shirt and jeans on my way to the bathroom. I tossed them into the empty clothes hamper and proceeded to get ready for the day.

It was just before nine in the morning when I stepped down into the store. I had a good half an hour before anyone started showing up. The store was pretty tidy from the day before, but I picked up and straightened where I could. I rearranged the seating areas and fluffed pillows.

The store phone started to ring and I walked towards the office to hear if someone would leave a message. I heard a shuffle and some bumping coming from inside the office. I immediately went on the defensive, grabbing the thickest, heaviest book within arms reach.

Holding a hardcopy of Anna Karenina like a weapon, I nudged open the office door. The shrill ringing of the phone mixed with a screech coming from the other person in the room. A muffled yelp stopped me short as I lunged through the doorway.

"Shit, STOP! Wait! Stop! It's me."

My head jerked in the direction of Jasper's voice. He was hovered over the couch dressed only in his underwear. Half seated, half standing in front of another set of legs, the palms of his hands up in a posture of surrender.

As my heart rate slowed, I observed the situation with a bit more care. A barely clothed Jasper stood in front of a woman. Her brown hair peeked out from behind him and her fingers grasped his bicep. I quirked an eyebrow and brought my weapon back down to my side.

"What the hell is going on here?"

"Can you please give us a second?" Jasper half barked, half pleaded. I shook my head in disbelief and stepped back onto the floor. I shelved the book and checked my watch. It was ten minutes until Nancy would be in. I flipped on all of the lights and walked back towards the office.

Jasper walked out holding with a woman in tow. She walked close behind him, her face nearly tucked into his shoulder. He led her to the back door and gave her a kiss and whispered something to her.

I cleared my throat loudly. He just glared over his shoulder in response.

"Is that you Alice?" I asked, a rude lilt to my voice. I couldn't help but be a little perturbed that he'd managed to make a love connection and I was left hopeless in Seattle.

Jasper's shoulders lifted with an annoyed sigh before he turned to face me.

"Edward, just drop it."

"What? You can't have sex in the office and not expect to get caught. Or better yet, you can't have sex in the office and then be mad _when_ you get caught."

Jasper started to argue, but a small hand clamped over his shoulder.

"He's right," she muttered, "Yes Edward, it's me."

She stepped out from behind him and took his hand tightly in hers. A sheepish, yet unapologetic smile crossed her lips.

"Well, score one for Team Jasper. Next time, keep it out of the store," I lamented, knowing full well had Bella let me, I'd have probably made a similar play.

"It was that or your bedroom," Alice replied with a sly chuckle. I cringed and shuddered at the thought before turning to a bookshelf and straightening it.

"How did things go with Bella?" Alice asked, feigned nonchalance dripping from her voice.

I tried to keep my face from twisting into a scowl, but the tell-tale signs were there.

"Did you screw this up Edward? I practically handed her to you on a silver platter. How did you manage to screw this up?"

I took offense to both her assumption that anything was _my _fault and that she would be so manipulative. Alice didn't know me. She didn't know that my intentions were good. She didn't know that I was becoming increasingly serious about Bella. She didn't know that I _was_ good enough for her best friend.

"No Alice," I replied, my voice steady though I wanted to scream at her, "I did not screw things up, but she did leave this morning and she didn't so much as wish me goodbye."

She took my response with grace, seemingly catching the absent anger that laced my statement.

"I see. Well then I guess I'll," I cut her off.

"Why did you do it Alice? Why did you push us together like that? I thought she was your friend."

"Why did I do it?" She asked, staring hard at me. I gave a curt nod in response.

"Why did I do it?" She repeated, dropping Jasper's hand and taking a few steps in my direction. I had half a mind to grab Anna Karenina off of the shelf again to protect myself from the fury I saw ignite behind her gray-blue eyes. I gave another petulant nod. "Are you such a bad person that I should have distracted her from whatever attention you've been giving her?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I crossed my arms brusquely across my chest.

"I did it because my best friend is running headlong into something she can't possibly understand. I did it because if anyone needs a reminder that there _is_ something else out there it is her. I did it because if I didn't, I'd feel guilty that I'd allowed the one other person in this world that loves me for no other reason than because she can to go into a marriage without even knowing what real love is."

I stood there dumbly staring at her ferocity.

"But we've only just met. How can I…"

"How can you what? Love her? Treat her well? Respect her for who she is? Just give it a shot. I don't really expect magic. I just want to give her the opportunity to see something else. She feels something for you. She may never admit it, but she does. Bella needs to feel a spark and I figured pushing the two of you together is the least I can do."

I felt an overwhelming urge to hug her neck, but I held back. Her eyes were still dancing with fierce emotion. I had so many questions to ask her, but now wasn't the time.

"She's gone though Alice. She left this morning for Chicago."

"Well then Edward, I guess you'll just have to work that much harder."

-------------

The door creaked a bit when I pushed into Jasper's apartment. I rolled my luggage in and stood in the doorway assessing the room.

The tiny flat was decorated in pale blues and whites. The walls held the slightest splash of color and the dark wood floors shone bright with care. The furniture was sparse, but not lacking. An upright piano sat against one wall. A flicker of the piano in Edward's apartment surfaced in my mind and I didn't bother fighting the smile that formed on my lips.

I twisted the keys free from the deadbolt and closed the door. I meandered through the small living space and stopped in the kitchen, which was small, but well equipped. A small round table sat on the far end, a folded note card perched on top.

_Bella,_

_If you need anything, please let me know. I can be reached at 753.343.3946._

_Rosalie_

_(Jasper's sister)_

I smiled and tucked the note under a magnet on the fridge and I continued my exploration of the apartment. I shrugged off my light jacket and made my way down the short hall. A bathroom, glistening with bright white subway tiles and silver fixtures, was on my right and a small linen closet, stocked with linens, on my left. I pushed open the remaining door and was greeted by an aged sleigh bed, covered in the most luxurious looking white linens. It sat flanked by two wrought iron side tables complete with matching lamps.

A deep smile pulled at my lips and I kicked off my shoes and climbed onto the bed. I laid back, fingers threaded together behind my head and stared out of the picture window that formed the wall beside the bed. I felt the hours of lost sleep creeping up on me quickly and my eyes fell closed.

-----------

I woke up in a huff, blinking confused as I took in my unfamiliar surroundings. I looked around the room as it was slowly being overtaken by evening shadows. The maniacal buzzing of my cell phone jarred me from my confusion. I rubbed my eyes tiredly and threw my legs over the side of the bed. I hobbled along the narrow hallway towards my luggage; I fumbled around in my bag and pulled the phone out. Through bleary eyes I read that I had eight missed text messages. I scrolled through them quickly.

One was from my dad reminding me of the crime rate in Chicago. The other seven were from Alice, each with an increasingly frantic undertone.

I shot her a quick text to let her know I hadn't been abducted. I needed to be sure I did it before she resorted to calling my father. I'd never be too old or too far away from my father and his handy police connections.

_You nearly forced me to call Jasper and have someone check on you._

_I'm sure you would have hated to call him. You worry too much._

_I probably do. Nice flight?_

_Yeah. No turbulence. Unfortunate dream sequence. Talked in my sleep._

_Lol. Sucks for you. What happened?_

_Too long to text. Just had a dirty dream in which I called out names. _

_Horrifying. Anyone I know?_

If I could have scoffed through a text I would have. *Scoff* didn't have the same effect.

_Edward. _

_Oh. Well, since you brought him up, I got to see him this AM. Pretty upset with your disappearing act._

I cringed.

_Yeah, well… reminds me. Will you lock up my place? _

_Poor subject change. You should call him and apologize. And yes I will._

_Can't. Shouldn't. Don't want to._

_Can-Here's his number. 905.587.7538. Should-You're not a bitch. Want to-You can't lie to me._

_Whatever. Gotta go. Talk to you when I can. _

I could almost feel her deviousness through the phone. One second she's shaming me for being disloyal, the next, she's shoving another man in my bed. I quickly sent her another text. Just to be sure.

_And don't give him my number Alice. I'm serious._

I flopped down on the couch and felt the weight of my phone on my stomach. I stared at it for a moment before picking it up and opening the last text from Alice. I chewed on the inside of my cheek. There was his number, ten digits that stood between me and something different. Perhaps no better, but at least different. And I _was _the one who wanted to see where this whole thing was going.

Without thinking, I pressed send. I stood up from the couch and began nervously pacing the room. Tugging carelessly at the ends of my hair, I waited for his voice on the end of the line. The line rang with no answer and I was just about to hang up when static and a muffled clattering rang out over the line.

"What?" A man's voice growled out. Had Alice given me the wrong number?

"Uh, Edward?" I eeked out.

"Who is this?" the man replied.

"Umm, it's Bella, I called to speak with Edward, but…"

"Bella? How'd you get my number," he grunted. So it was Edward. What happened to proper phone etiquette? Rudeness was not exactly the response I'd been expecting.

"I'm sorry, Alice gave it to me. I'll let you go, I'm sorry for interrupting, well, whatever you're doing."

"No, I'm sorry. I just, I've just had a shitty day so far. I'm sorry, it all came out wrong," he sighed into the phone, "What I meant to say was, how was you're flight?"

The crease between my eyebrows loosened up and I let out an anxious breath. I stopped my frantic pacing and stood at the window looking out on the street below. My mind flashed to kissing Edward in his apartment.

"It was nice," I replied. I figured that _nice _was as fitting an adjective as any.

I heard what sounded like shuffling papers and the snap of a three ring binder being closed.

"I'm sorry Edward, I'll let you get back to work. I just called to let you know that you give good directions."

"No, please, you calling me is the only thing that could make my day any better. Besides, I'm not working working."

"What exactly does that mean?"

"I'm working on my homework."

"Oh, so you're in school?" I almost added a 'still' to that, but was able to stop it before it came out of my mouth. I didn't want him to think I was being rude… not everyone is able to dedicate an entire 4 years to college.

"No, I graduated from college a few years ago. I have been taking piano lessons for several months. I was working on my fingering techniques," he said nonchalantly.

I coughed a bit and my face flushed.

"Oh shit. No, fingering is just what it's called when you … fuck. It's how you play the piano. I have to increase my dexterity in order to play more smoothly," he blurted. He mumbled something under his breath and I couldn't help but laugh. For once, I wasn't the one saying something dumb and feeling like an idiot.

"No, I get it. My mom played for about fifteen minutes when I was growing up, but I believe she referred to them as finger exercises. It was a much more age appropriate term."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so uncouth. Out of context, that could have been…"

I abruptly cut him off.

"I liked it. I mean I liked you not trying to put me up on some pedestal. I'm not made of glass."

"Of course not," he said simply. An air of awkwardness draped over us and I found myself shuffling around the small kitchen, opening and closing cabinets.

"I am going to have to buy groceries." I said absentmindedly.

"Why did you leave Bella? Without saying goodbye, I mean."

I'd been sending terribly mixed messages. My behaviors aside, I knew that I wasn't ready emotionally. Every fiber of my being was screaming at me to wait. I wasn't ready to be with Mike, but I wasn't ready to be with anyone else either. I had a lot of empty to fill before I'd ever be enough for anyone.

But Edward didn't deserve to suffer through this. Even if he'd offered himself up like a sheep for slaughter.

"Ok Edward, I'm going to be completely honest with you. I'm going to go no filter. Are you ready?"

I heard a 'yes' and I steeled my nerves. Where was his pack of cigarettes when I needed them?

"You are dangerous. You're dangerous because I can see myself getting lost in whatever the hell you are. The first time I met you, I wanted to run my hands through your hair and jump in your lap. You brought out feelings I'd not even noticed I'd lost. I am in a precarious situation and in a strange relationship with a man who doesn't even know who I am and yet because I can't open my mouth and speak. The kicker is that all I want to do is tell you each and every deep dark secret I can muster. I want to talk to you, have sex with you, listen to you practice chopsticks on the piano and for no other reason than because it is something different than what I've got. I feel incredibly selfish, incredibly reckless, and incredibly coldhearted."

"Are you afraid you're going to hurt me?" He asked.

"Yes," I sighed.

"I'm not made of glass," his voice was velvet, "And I thought I'd made it abundantly clear that I'm here to be whatever you need me to be and if that is your entertainment, then so be it. I'll practice my fingering exercises."

I wasn't sure exactly what he meant by that.

---------------

We had an understanding. She used me and I used her. We realized it was somewhat masochistic because as the days went along, things got more uncertain and more involved. We were straddling the line of friend and lover. Only neither of us got true gratification. With the passing of hours, it became more and more unclear as to whether or not I wanted the gratification of sex or simply her presence. We were balanced on the fine edge of a sharp blade.

I talked to her every night. She recounted the many adventures she embarked on in her quest for self. Slowly but surely, I felt her confidence emerge. Gone were the days when she'd follow up her opinions with, "but that's stupid isn't it." She would send me picture messages of herself posed in front of random Chicago sights. From the tiny pixilated images, I could see a new person. She held herself more confidently, her smile was brighter, and she looked comfortable in her skin. It was a far cry from the well-dressed, but painfully uneasy girl I'd taken to lunch all those days ago.

So here we were. It had been a rather uneventful Thursday. Nancy goaded some poor customer into flinging a book at her, but I was able to disarm the patron and thankfully no one had any major injuries.

Jasper was still floating around on Cloud Alice, so much so that I seriously considered calling an intervention. This much spooning was going to cause serious muscular atrophy if he wasn't careful. Something told me he didn't mind though and I enjoyed not having him busting my balls at work.

Sales were always up when Jasper wasn't around to slow my roll.

I glanced at my phone. It was almost 8:15PM my time. Bella would be calling any minute now.

I quickly ran through my nightly routine.

Shower: Check

Brush Teeth: Check

Read one chapter of Harry Potter: Check (Hey, don't judge)

Wait like a stalker by the phone for Bella to call: Check

I stripped down to my boxers and crawled under the sheets. I flipped open my phone and cruised through my inbox, stopping on each of the picture messages she'd sent me over the week. I stared at her sweet face and felt a familiar tug in my chest. What had this woman done to me? I'd pushed it and denied it and fought it, but she managed in her completely noncommittal, we're-just-friends kind of way to thrust herself waist-deep into my life.

I stared at one picture. It was a grainy self-portrait of her standing outside my second favorite restaurant in all of Chicago. She was grinning widely and you could make out the neon sign behind her. Her skin was strangely orange from the sign's glow. I didn't care though. It was a picture of her.

My mind had forgotten exactly what she looked like. I had all of the basics, but the finer details were a bit hazy. This weird, orange picture helped me remember the swell of her lips, the roundness of her cheeks, the slope of her neck.

I rolled onto my back and held the phone above me. I clicked around and managed to set the photo as her caller ID. I shut the phone and laid it on my chest.

I'd changed my routine. I found myself making sure I was out of the store by 7:30 each evening so that I could be showered and in the bed in time for her call. It was from these friendly phone calls that I'd managed to learn enough about her to be dangerous. I learned less about her relationship woes and more about her day to day life. What she liked for breakfast – Fruity Pebbles. Her favorite t-shirt – a ratty Shorty's number she'd bought for a dollar at a thrift store in her home town. Her favorite song – that changed from day to day. She loved her mother deeply and her father was the best at everything.

It was the type of stuff you learned from years of cohabitation, but I learned over the series of seven 2-hour long phone calls. Fourteen hours of conversation told me I was in deep. I'd allowed myself to go there. To be drawn into her web and it was me who was begging for her to consume me.

I stayed quiet for the most part. Dueling with the tiny flutters and aches in my own way. I pushed her from my thoughts when I could, but that just resulted in me mistreating those around me. I'd signed myself over to her and she did warn me. I just found the idea of her returning here and getting married to Mike completely sickening. I couldn't say I wanted to marry her, but I could admit to the fact that I needed more than just 120 minutes of chit chat.

And I would have to convince her of that.

It wasn't a moment later that it vibrated. A sloppy grin spread over my face and I reached to open it, but my ringtone started playing.

I looked at the caller ID and Bella's orange face stared back.

"Hello," I answered brightly.

"Edward," she answered, her voice thick with tears. I sat up quickly.

"What's wrong? Are you ok?"

"I'm sorry I called like this," she choked out, "Alice won't answer her damned phone."

"No, no, it's fine. What's wrong?" My voice was sharp with concern.

She just cried out over the phone, deep breathy sobs that made my stomach turn and my heart sputter.

"I'm so fucking mad," she said as she drew in a choppy breath, "He called me and he wants me to come home."

More jerky sobs broke out and my heart broke a little.

"He wants me to come home and I don't want to."

"Well, did you tell him as much?"

"N-n-n-n-o-o-o-o, I can't fucking tell the truth when he talks to me. I just… I just…" she fell apart, stuttering and sputtering her way through the sentence, "I just hung up the phone. I didn't know what to say."

I soothed her through the phone and tried my best to console her. After a few minutes, she'd stopped openly sobbing and now drew in hitched breaths and had the occasional hiccup.

"Edward, I'm not ready to go back." Her voice came over nasal and congested.

"The beauty in this situation is that you don't have to. When you're ready, you can go, but not until then." I tried not to choke on my words. We had always done our best to not talk about Mike and I didn't want to be a douche, but I also found myself wanting to be selfish.

"What if I'm never ready?"

"Therein lies your answer, sweetheart."

I could hear her draw in another haggard breath.

"I am having such a good time," she whispered, "I'm a little lonely though and that scares me."

"Why does that scare you? You've been with Mike for so long that you've grown accustomed to being with him. Why wouldn't you be lonely?"

"I was never lonely before him," she said.

"Maybe not, but…" I paused urging myself to be unbiased, "Maybe you love him and want to be with him."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But shouldn't I know?" She croaked and I heard her blow her nose, "Dammit, I'm so fucking confused and mad and lonely."

I could hear her sniffling. She let out a throaty groan and muttered something I couldn't quite make out.

"Bella, what can I do to make you feel better?"

"Let's just talk about something else."

I thought for a second, trying to some up with something.

"What did you do today?" I asked. She sighed and sat the phone down. I heard her blow her nose again and take a shaky breath.

"Oh, I went to that breakfast place down on the water. The eggs were overcooked and the bookstore you raved about was closed for renovations or something. So, instead, I did something really adventurous," she was smiling a tiny bit and I could hear it.

"Yeah, what did you do?"

"I went on a bike tour like a true tourista," she laughed softly, "And for me that is the epitome of bravery. I'm in no way athletic, so to straddle a bike in Chicago traffic… well, that is really saying something."

"You are too athletic," I defended, "You like to run. That is true athleticism."

She snorted and I laughed.

"So I can pick up one foot and put it down in front of the other…"

"It takes cardio endurance to run."

"Well, I was panting, sweating like a whore in church and my legs were on fire. Needless to say, biking works a different set of muscles," she argued.

"Ok, ok, you win. You're a fat lard."

"Asshole!" She exclaimed. Her voice was sharp and still congested from crying.

"What, you know I was just kidding. I find you rather attractive, but you knew that too."

"Shut up," she muttered, yawning into the phone.

"Are you going to be ok?" I asked with genuine concern.

"Yeah, you have a tendency to make things better," she yawned again, "Now if only I could get you to come over here and fix this damned hot water heater, my life would be all hearts and clovers," she laughed. I smiled.

"All you have to do is ask and I'd be on my way," I said, hoping I'd imbued the right combination of seriousness and humor.

"What are you a vampire? Do you need permission to enter?"

Someone had been watching too much True Blood.

"I don't need it, per se, just prefer it."

There was a pause and I wasn't sure if it was pleasant or not. I heard Bella take a breath.

"I really should call Jasper's sister about the water heater; I'm tired of taking cold showers."

_That makes two of us. _

"Yeah, Rose'll make sure that gets fixed," I said, looking over at the clock. It was past midnight her time and her yawns were increasing in frequency. I waited for her to end the call soon. Neither of us spoke, just contented breaths assuring us that the other was still on the line.

"Edward," Bella finally spoke.

"Yeah?"

"I think I miss you."

"How can you miss me silly girl? We've only even seen each other a few times."

"I know, but I look forward to talking to you and I think about you sometimes when I'm out and about. That's got to mean that I'm missing you."

I felt like fucking hearts and clovers. Like a big fucking box of Lucky Charms filled with nothing but marshmallows.

"Well, Ms. Swan, I am flattered. You can rest assured the feeling is mutual," I chuckled, earnestness lacing my voice.

"I guess I wouldn't mind seeing you again… our brief encounters sure were exciting."

_Holy shit. Was she… really? Like for real? Like for real for real?_

I toned down my inner shrieking pubescent boy. Barely recognizing the moment when I'd been reduced to a cracking voice and sweaty palms, I stammered for a response.

_Me._

Edward Cullen.

Edward Fucking Cullen. Purveyor of fine books and bookstore related sex fantasies…

It was in that moment that I realized I was nowhere near as cool as I wished I was. I was just Edward Cullen, a man smitten with Bella Swan.

Bella Swan who was engaged to Mr. Michael Newton. Yes _those_ Newton's. You didn't go long in Seattle without hearing about the donations, scholarships, and/or new hospital wings dedicated on behalf of _those _Newton's.

But Bella wanted different. Or so she claimed.

"So when should I schedule my flight?" I managed.

She just scoffed. "Well, if you could make it here by breakfast that would be great… We might even be able to make it to the matinee. I've really been wanting to see one of the foreign films they've been running at the community theatre."

She continued rambling on about this and that. Something about furniture stores and her laptop. Or maybe it was the grocery stores and her iPod. Fuck, maybe it was both. I couldn't tell you. My mind was swimming and I was searching every airline that serviced SeaTac Airport for the earliest flight to Chicago.

-------------

I stood in the lukewarm shower.

I managed to screw things up with Edward. Even when I wasn't _really _trying, I managed to freak him out. Admitting to the fact I had been missing him sent him into quiet sentences and halfhearted chuckles. He even completely stopped listening to me at one point.

I did mean it though. I really was beginning to miss him. Maybe it was just the idea of him. Someone who wouldn't forgive my past transgressions, but rather understand them. I didn't need Mike's forgiveness. I'd never asked him for that. I simply wanted him to understand who I was and who I had been.

I toweled off and wrapped my short, silky bathrobe around me, cinching the knot securely. I grabbed my phone from the counter and sent him a text.

_Sorry I got weird on you last night. _

_So you really don't miss me?? I'm slightly offended._

_What I was trying to say is that you've been really nice to me lately. And I appreciate it._

_So you don't want me to come over? I have my tool kit all packed up..._

_I would love a hot shower. _

_Shouldn't be long now. _

_Right… so what's for breakfast?_

_Have you already gone through my previous suggestions?_

_Maybe… _

_Crepes. Crepes-A-Go-Go off of Hurst. Strawberry, banana, nutella. Can't go wrong._

_Crepes it is. _

_Might I make a dinner suggestion? Quartino on N. State, don't go before 8PM. Service is best after 8._

_Well aren't you on the ball. Thank you. _

_Enjoy._

I put down my phone and started getting ready. I combed out my hair and put the blow dryer to it for a bit. When it was close enough to dry, I swept it up into a loose bun. I put on moisturizer and smudged on some makeup. I doused myself with perfume and pulled on a deep green button up and dark skinny jeans. Finally, I wedged my feet into a pair of flats and grabbed a light jacket and my purse.

I spent the day traipsing around Chicago. I visited the Museum of Contemporary Photography, had a delightful bowl of coconut rice, and finally made it to see the Foreign Film Double Feature at the Lakeview Community Theatre. I laughed and cried my way through _Mostly Martha_ and _Turtles Can Fly_.

By the time the films were over, I was tired and my legs were stiff. My face was ruddy with tears, of that I was sure, and my stomach was growling. I glanced at my watch and was shocked to see it was already six o'clock. I hoped this place Edward suggested was open because there was no way I'd be able to wait until 8PM.

I scrolled through my text messages until I found the name of the restaurant he suggested. _Quartino._

_I'm ready for my directions. Can't wait until 8. Need food now._

I stopped and sat down on a nearby bench. Holding my phone tightly, I waited for his call but minutes passed with no response. A sigh escaped my lips. I opened the browser in my phone and typed in the restaurant name. Directions flickered on the screen and I headed off in search of food.

A few blocks later, I was standing in front of the restaurant. It was like stepping into a Roman café. Small wooden tables shoved together. Dark wood floors, brass finishes and smooth, shiny subway tiles. The hostess seated me at a small two-top in the back. It was dark and secluded – the perfect place for me to people watch.

I let the waiter recommend dinner and ordered a limoncello martini and a water. The waiter brought out my drinks and a small basket of warm bread. I smiled graciously and nibbled at the rustic olive loaf.

I nursed my glass of martini as my eyes traveled around the room. A few couples dotted the room, looking longingly at each other with their hands clasped across the starched white table cloth. I felt a pang of jealously as I looked at the empty seat across from me and took a deep swig from my glass.

My glass was refilled and a heaping plate of pasta sat before me. I dove in heartily and was not surprised that Edward was right yet again. His taste in food was impeccable.

_Oh Edward, is there anything your bad at?_

I sighed and checked my phone. He still hadn't responded to my text.

The sounds of laughter and toasts flitted around the dining hall and I felt lonelier by the second. Chicago started to feel very far away from home. The distance that I had been craving started to stretch a wide crevice in my heart.

I questioned the swell of emotion that was beginning to take over.

As a raucous group filtered in, I pushed my plate away. My hunger sated and my vision pleasantly hazy, I signaled the waiter for my ticket. A quick glance at my watch let me know that it was nearly nine o'clock. The group bobbed over to the bar and I sat watching them.

A shock of coppery hair caught my attention and my breath. I felt a flush run up my spine and over my chest. I almost passed it off as the alcohol, but when my palms began to get clammy, I knew it was more than that. How long was I going to go on pretending to be unaffected by the man I shared mundane conversations with each evening? My body reacted to even the sight of someone with similarly colored features.

There was no denying the sweaty tingles.

I ducked my head, smiling sheepishly and signed my receipt. I slipped my debit card back into my wallet and took one last swig of my water. I took a final sweeping look at the bar. My eyes went wide and my mouth slack.

There leaning ever so James Dean-esque was Edward Cullen.

Within the span of a moment, a bare split second, I was out of my seat. Hurling myself gracelessly towards him, I realized there would be no second thoughts. There would be no loyalties. There would be no stopping me.

-------------

I paced outside of _Quartino_ for at least twenty minutes. I could see her in the dimly lit restaurant, seated near the back sipping on a martini. I just didn't have the balls to go in. I'd made quite a rush to judgment when I made the decision to fly all of the way to Chicago, but something in her voice beckoned me.

A group of people made their way towards the restaurant and I walked in behind them. I slipped up to the bar unnoticed. I needed a little liquid courage.

I didn't know what to expect. Either she'd love it or hate it.

I ordered something strong and took it down in one gulp. I tapped the glass on the bar to indicate I needed another. The barkeep poured me a second and I chased it down with a splash of water. My glass was again refilled.

The restaurant was reflected through the mirror behind the bar and I searched the room for her face. I found her waiting form still seated at the two-top in the corner of the place. She was playing with the cloth napkin and chewing on her bottom lip. She looked up from the table and jerked slightly. She was staring at me. The look on her face showed that she didn't know it was me and when she looked back down to sign her bill it was confirmed. Or at least I hope it did.

I took a final swig of alcohol and wiped my lips with the back of my hand. Here goes nothing.

I turned around slowly. Leaning casually against the bar, I waited for her eyes to look my way again. All the while my fingers gripped the brass handrail hard enough to bend the metal. This had to work. This had to work and she had to want me as desperately as I found myself wanting her.

Her eyes swept the room and in a moment, her eyes found mine. A small smile gilded my lips and I watched as her features registered shock and then went blank. I braced myself for fury or tears or both.

And then, in the blink of an eye, everything was ok.

Her pink lips curled up into a breathtaking smile and she barreled her way through the tables towards me. She moved quickly and with grace. Dressed in a dark colored button up shirt and jeans, the woman before me now bared a striking contrast to the one I'd seen in Seattle. She was vibrant and unique. Her dark hair was loosely gathered at the base of her long, milky white neck.

I stepped away from the bar, my hands slack at my sides. I didn't know whether to reach out for her or just wait to see what she did. So I just stood there waiting. I didn't wait long. Her arms were around my neck and her body was pressed firmly against mine. In that second, I knew this was all worth it. I wrapped my arms tightly around her narrow waist and squeezed. The smell of citrus and honey saturated the air around me and I buried my face in her neck, kissing the skin there.

"Edward," she sighed, a smile evident in her voice.

I leaned back from her neck to see her face. Her brown eyes were wide and sparkling. Her lips were pink and smiling. Her heart beat fast against my chest. This was exactly how it was supposed to be.

"I hope dinner was ok. You were supposed to wait until 8PM though. I'd made reservations."

She smiled sheepishly and laid her head on my shoulder.

"If there is one thing you're going to learn about me," she started, her eyes locking with mine for a split second before they darted to my lips. Before I could say anything, she closed the distance between us and pressed her lips against mine for a sweet kiss.

"It's that I'm terribly impatient."

* * *

Please review!! It'll have me back writing in no time.

Also, head on over to the Indie Twific Awards and vote for The Sweetest Thing!!

Robert Pattinson would most def want you to! And who can say no to that sweet thing.


	9. Such Great Heights

A huge, Edward Cullen sized thank you goes out to my Beta **FamouslySo (AllAtOnce)**. She's the righter (--- is that even a word?) of all my wrongs. :D

SM OWNS, Not me. *Sad Panda*

* * *

_I stepped away from the bar, my hands slack at my sides. I didn't know whether to reach out for her or just wait to see what she did. So I just stood there waiting. I didn't wait long. Her arms were around my neck and her body was pressed firmly against mine. In that second, I knew this was all worth it. I wrapped my arms tightly around her narrow waist and squeezed. The smell of citrus and honey saturated the air around me and I buried my face in her neck, kissing the skin there._

"_Edward," she sighed, a smile evident in her voice._

_I leaned back from her neck to see her face. Her brown eyes were wide and sparkling. Her lips were pink and smiling. Her heart beat fast against my chest. This was exactly how it was supposed to be._

"_I hope dinner was ok. You were supposed to wait until 8PM though. I'd made reservations."_

_She smiled sheepishly and laid her head on my shoulder._

"_If there is one thing you're going to learn about me," she started, her eyes locking with mine for a split second before they darted to my lips. Before I could say anything, she closed the distance between us and pressed her lips against mine for a sweet kiss._

"_It's that I'm terribly impatient."_

**BPOV**

His arms were tight around my waist and his palms pressed against the small of my back. I buried my face in his chest, slightly rubbing against his shirt to drum up more of his mind-numbing scent. My arms were wrapped around his neck, my hands clutching the fabric of his collar.

We stood there amid the raucous crowd lining the bar, barely moving. He just held me close to him, dotting a few soft kisses to the top of my head. No awkward touches or confusion, just contentment and a bizarre familiarity. Like when you were in grade school and you met someone who liked the same cartoons as you, you felt like you knew them completely. Only I wanted to know this person a _bit_ more intimately.

After a few moments, he cleared his throat and pulled away.

"You want to get out of here?" he asked in a hushed voice. His bright green eyes were clear, his eyebrows lifted in question.

I nodded overzealously and he dropped a few bills down on the bar. Gathering my things from my table, we stepped out into the cool evening air and Edward draped my jacket over my shoulders. He took my hand and slowly turned me into him.

My eyes poured over him. Everything seemed different, as though I had been seeing things through a fog and now I was seeing things with new eyes. He was tall and strong before me, but it was impossible to not notice his worn appearance. The tired purple under his eyes, the wrinkled shirt he wore and the frazzled disarray that was his hair. I lifted my hands to his face, feeling his stubbled jaw prickling my palms. His green eyes looked at me intently, dark but at the same time light. His lips were pursed in a soft smile.

I felt a gnawing in the pit of my stomach, somewhere between hunger and butterflies. It was moving up my spine, crawling slowly but surely and making me woozy. I closed my eyes and could feel a fluttering behind my eyelids. I prayed I wouldn't pass out.

"We can go slow," he whispered, ducking his head and running his nose along the shell of my ear. A shiver ran up my spine and a gush of air pushed its way through my lips.

I felt that crazy sense of recklessness come to life inside me. Being reckless was not my nature, but the whole Mike situation had me feeling trapped. And like any trapped animal, I was capable of almost anything. Not an excuse for what I felt was going to happen, per se, simply an explanation.

"I don't have time," I murmured. His nose moved from my ear, down the line of my neck, only to stop at the turn of my collar. "I don't have time for slow," I clarified. His soft exhale coursed down the inside of my collar, warming my quickly cooling flesh.

I suddenly became hyper aware of our surroundings. People filtered around us, oblivious to the enormity of the situation that enveloped us. The dark night of Chicago hung heavy, but as I looked at him the lights and sounds faded away into nothing.

I could only see and feel and hear Edward. It felt unfamiliar, but comfortable. Wrong, but right. Sad, but happy.---

**--------**

**EPOV**

We walked back to the apartment hand in hand. We were quiet, no words really necessary.

Bella moved delicately alongside me. Occasionally, she'd sigh or lean into me and I'd breakout into a painfully wide smile. Everything felt miraculously comfortable. We'd known each other for a couple of weeks, talked on the phone a couple of times, kissed once or twice… hardly enough for me to feel as good as I was feeling. It felt like Christmas in my pajamas. Like Sunday on the lake. Like a snow day at home, wrapped up and warm in my bed.

Only I wasn't.

I was walking down a street in Chicago, of all places, clutching Bella's warm hand as if it were the only headboard floating around in the Atlantic after the Titanic went down.

Bella breathed out a tiny sigh and I glanced down at her only to catch her looking back up at me. I smiled down at her and she smiled back. A slight blush pinked up her cheeks. I brought our hands to my lips and gave her fingertips a kiss.

She sighed again and my heart sputtered. She was leading us back to Jasper's, but took a wrong turn. I gave her hand a tug and nodded in the right direction.

"This way," I corrected. She sort of tightened her eyes and looked around at the storefronts and street signs before shrugging in acceptance.

"It is weird not knowing where I'm going."

"You've only been here a week. I lived here for almost twenty years," I reminded her as we stepped off of the curb and crossed the street. She kind of chuckled in response and shook her head.

"What?" I asked.

"That wasn't what I meant, well, not entirely at least."

"Oh."

"Yeah, for years now, I've been following a formula. We'll call it the 'Don't Fuck This Up Swan' theorem. I was working to keep a good thing going. Everything seemed pretty much decided. Not so much because I felt decisive, but more because I felt like I didn't have any other options. I couldn't fail. Yet here I am, in Chicago, sans engagement ring, with you. It is just a strange sensation to suddenly not have a plan."

"Strange good or strange bad?" My fingers found the bare skin of her ring finger and rubbed it for confirmation.

"Strange good," she smiled and gave my hand another squeeze, "Definitely strange good."

I flashed a cheesy grin and kissed the top of her head. I felt dizzy with something. I liked the freedom of being able to show her affection without the fear of being caught. Not that I really ever felt that way. Not that we were ripe with opportunities to mess around. But knowing she was otherwise involved did fuck with my head at times. I didn't want what we had to be a bad thing. I didn't want what we did to be left in the shadows. I wanted everything out in the open.

But you can't always get what you want. It was something that I was finding to be a recurring theme in the moments I spent with her. Wanting what you can't have. Or at least wanting things that you can't have the way you want them when you want them.

That probably didn't make any sense… suffice it to say, timing is everything and my timing was definitely off.

She bumped into me and stirred me from my muddy thoughts.

"I've got a plan," I blurted.

"Do you now?"

"Sure I do." I tried to think clearly and come up with the right words.

"Would you like to share with the class?" She asked when my response was not immediate. We finally made it to the steps of the apartment building and I stood beside her as she fished through her bag for keys. I just stared at her, committing to memory the way her hair fell down her neck. "Are you going to tell me or not?" She pushed the door open and I stood outside.

"For the next week, I'm going to make you forget your troubles. I'm going to wine you and dine you. Show you a good time and we'll explore my hometown. But you've got to be you and I've got to be me. We'll see where the hell that takes us and worry about everything else later."

Her head tilted to the side like she couldn't decide whether or not I was serious. Her chocolate eyes were warm and all I could think of were the chocolate chip cookies my Gramma used to make when I was eight.

"Then come upstairs."

--------------

**BPOV**

The words shot out of my mouth and I could tell by the look on his face that he wasn't really expecting that reaction from me. Sure he'd come to Chicago to see me. Sure he had his beat up leather duffle filled with his toothbrush and clean underwear. Sure he had that sexhair working overtime. Sure he looked like he kinda of wanted to, but did I?

"Bella," he cautioned, his voice sweet lacking any hint of rejection, "Are you sure?" He shifted nervously like the night he'd shown up at my apartment. There we were again. Two steps forward, three steps back.

Was I sure?

Was I sure?

Was I sure?

Hell no. I wasn't sure.

Besides… what good was being 'sure' of something? Most of the things I'd been sure of ended up screwing me in the end.

I had been sure that Clay Aiken was going to win American Idol. So much so that I'd bet Alice $100 he'd win.

I had been sure that Prince William wasn't really going bald. He just liked a close cut, right?

I had been sure that staying out of_ The Page on Pike_ would keep Edward off of my mind.

Yet here we all are. Clay was the runner-up. Will does this funny pouf thing in an attempt to hide his bald spot, which is a total turn-off by the way, and Edward is standing toe-to-toe with me on the steps of my borrowed apartment.

There is no such thing as a sure thing and that's for sure.

"Come on Edward. Let's go upstairs." I reached out and took his hand without another word.

I pulled him behind me as we stepped into the tiny elevator. The doors rattled closed and I took a cautious look in his direction. He was just staring ahead with a big, dumb grin on his face. I couldn't help but giggle a little at the thought that maybe I'd put it there.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing," I replied.

He _umm hmm_-ed me like he knew something I didn't.

"What? Really it was nothing."

"Tell me, Swan. Why are you giggling?"

And I giggled yet again because he said giggle and his lips puckered at the end of the word and his eyes got all scrunchy. He had turned to face me; he was staring at me with one eyebrow cocked. He slipped a hand under my jacket to the small of my back and held me close, staring me down in a way that should've been illegal. In a way that sent fire blazing down my spine.

As the elevator doors opened, the cabin shook and his free hand shot out to grip the handrail in an attempt to steady us when I started to lose my balance. I swallowed as his fingers dipped underneath the fabric of my shirt. His green eyes were dancing and burning and darkening.

"This is it," I choked. He chuckled and nodded, pulling away and removing his hands from my person before stepping aside so that I could lead the way. He didn't need my direction of course; he'd been here before.

I struggled to put one foot in front of the other. He was a few steps behind me and I felt nervous yet giddy. I knew he was watching me. I knew it because you can tell when a man is watching you. And you can bet that if the shoe were on the other foot, Merriam-Webster's R&D Team would have to come up with a new word for what I would be doing. Because ogling wouldn't fully encompass the degree to which I'd be checking that shit out.

I tried to be casual and threw a lazy glance over my shoulder, channeling my inner pin-up girl and old movie seductress.

Yep.

His eyes were trained on my backside. I smiled and a chuckle fell from my lips. His eyes bounced back up to my face.

"What?" He asked, playing coy.

"You know what." I turned my face forward and waited for the denials to start pouring in.

"No." He closed the gap between us, his breath was suddenly hot on my neck, "I don't think I do." He dropped an open mouthed kiss on the inside of my neck. Goosebumps covered the flesh on my arms.

"You were checking me out," I managed.

"And?" His voice raked over me and I waited for his lips to find mine.

"And I liked it," I mumbled, barely moving my lips in fear that it would keep him from kissing me.

"So did I," he replied as he dropped a chaste kiss on my cheek. He took the keys from my fumbling fingers and flipped them around until he found the right one. Twisting the knob, he pushed the door open and allowed me to enter.

I flipped on the lights and immediately cursed myself and my appalling housekeeping skills. There were 2-liter bottles of club soda littered over the flat surfaces of the living room. A few sweaters tossed carelessly over the backs of chairs. An ironing board set up in the corner.

But hey, I _was_ on vacation!

I immediately flew about the apartment, picking up stray items of clothing and attempting to fluff the pillows on the couch. You know, knocking the middle of the pillow so that it fell into that perfect _House Beautiful _pillow shape. Just call me Suzie Fucking Homemaker.

"So Swan, you like gin and tonics?" He asked with a snarky grin as he held up one of the aforementioned bottles of club soda.

"No, I'm more of a Vodka Collins type of a girl, hence the club soda."

I ignored him and continued my frantic rearranging. I didn't want him running off and telling Jasper I'd left his posh flat in shambles. He simply followed me around from area to area.

"What _are _you doing?" he asked as I shoved two empty bottles into the garbage can.

"Straightening up. My house guest didn't alert me of their pending arrival. Which fuck…" I darted towards the bathroom. There, on a towel spread across the bowl of the pedestal sink, lay several pair of my expensive panties out to dry. A few bras hung unceremoniously from the towel bar.

"I'd say you decorated just right," he chuckled from behind me as I shoved the sheer panties and bras into the purse I still carried on my shoulder. I just smiled like it was no big deal and my blush proceeded to contradict me. I stiffened and tried to go around him, but he was blocking the door.

"I hate to break it to you Swan, but those aren't the first panties I've ever seen," he smirked as his hand dipped down into my purse. I swatted it away.

"But, I must give it to you. They are the nicest. And you say you _didn't_ know I was coming…"

"If you're implying that I purchased these panties for _your_ arrival, I hate to burst your bubble. These panties were all for me." I pushed past him and back into the living room. I could hear him shuffling behind me.

"Care to share what you mean by that?"

Did I really need to explain my panties to him?

I stopped my hurried cleaning and looked at him. Big mistake.

He leaned casually against the fine curved doorway; the glow of the lamps warmed his pale skin. He was all sex and happy and smartass. I dipped my chin and started straightening coasters on the coffee table.

"Some people believe that the clothes you wear make you confident, I say it's the panties. I'll always stand taller in good lace."

I chanced a glance at Edward. His eyes were darker and his jaw was clenching and unclenching, causing a hollowed out shadow.

Awkward.

Too soon for the panty talk.

"Right, but anyway. They aren't the first pair you've seen so it is really no big deal." I noisily closed up the ironing board and walked it back into the kitchen. I shoved it in the space between the refrigerator and the wall and gathered up a few dishes for the sink and when I felt reasonably tidy, I tip toed back into the living room.

Edward had made himself comfortable, choosing to rest on the sofa; a booted foot peeked up over the back of the couch. I walked over and took a seat in the wingback nearby. I dropped my purse down beside me, shoving a crème thong down beside my wallet.

"Are you done with your whirlwind cleaning?"

"I am."

"Are you sure you don't want to vacuum?" He ran a hand over the rug beneath the sofa and coffee table, rubbing his fingers together as if he found dust. I made a face at his sarcasm.

"I'm sure."

"Are you going to sit over there or come over here and lie down with me? I did just travel hours on a cramped flight sandwiched between a woman who had to breastfeed her twins every 20 minutes and a 300 pound gorilla to see you."

I hesitated for a second, but stood anyway and padded over to him. I tapped his feet to signal him to move them so that I might sit on that end of the couch. He just lifted an eyebrow in obvious disagreement. He flipped onto his side and patted the empty space he created.

"And take your jacket off," he directed, grabbing at the hem of my thin jacket, "And your shoes." I sighed in feigned indignation. He was too cute just laying there with his wrinkly clothes and old man shoes.

"Well, you need to take your shoes off too," I responded, "It's nasty to put your dirty boots all over the armrest. I put my face there sometimes."

"If you knew what's gone down on that armrest, you might have second thoughts about resting your cheeks on it. Either pair."

"Oh God, what do you mean?"

He sat up and bent over to take off his boots and I slipped off my flats and dropped my jacket into the empty wingback.

"This couch has been here for a _very _long time. Jasper had it before I moved in, Rosalie had it after we moved out and Emmett lived here for sometime before they got married. Let's just say, this couch has seen its fair share of bare asses."

"I'll keep that in mind next time I take a nap."

"Next time you take a nap, you can use my shoulder," he smiled and laid back down on the couch patting the empty space beside him, "Or my chest, your choice."

I just rolled my eyes and tried to downplay the swooning that my heart was doing.

"Gag me." I plopped down on the sliver of a couch cushion he left me and wiggled my hips to signal he should free up some more room.

"What happened to the pitiable and heartbroken romantic that I came to see? You're no fun; you don't swoon at my attempts to woo you." He scooched back some more and I tried to lie down without completely putting my ass on, over, or around his junk.

"Sorry, Cullen. You're game has gotten weak." I mocked him in an attempt to save face. My back was against his chest and my arms were awkwardly at my sides. We were close. Very close. I could feel his warmth radiating onto the bare skin of my arms. His deep chuckle vibrated through me.

"My game is anything but weak." His arms moved around me and pulled me to him. He pressed his lips to the back of my head and sighed.

"So you used to live here?" I asked, attempting to change the subject because the next thing I saw myself doing was flipping over, taking a fistful of his hair and pulling his face to mine.

"Right on this couch for nearly a year," he answered as he ran his fingertips up and down my arm.

"Wow, was it as shitty as it sounds? I mean a year?" I cringed at the thought of sleeping on this lumpy couch for a year.

"It wasn't so bad, but it did have its awkward moments. I slept out in the hall on more than one occasion when Jasper had lady friends over. All in all though, it wasn't bad." I felt him shrug and begin running his hand up and down my arm again.

"Do you miss Chicago?"

"I miss my family. My mom and dad live across town, but I figure I'll always miss them if we live hours apart. I mean, don't you miss your parents? Or do they live in Seattle?"

"Yeah, I miss my folks. My dad lives a few hours west of Seattle and my mom lives in Florida. We talk often enough," I replied dismissively, "Are you going to visit them while you're in town?"

"Most likely. Why? You interested in meeting them?"

I coughed in surprise.

"So that would be a no then?"

"No… I mean yes…. I mean, really?"

"Why not? But you have to promise me that you won't ravage me in front of them," he joked and squeezed my shoulders playfully. It lessened the tension considerably.

"You really need to stop reading all those cheesy paperback romances at work. It is skewing your perception of reality." I leaned back into him and turned my head so that I could see his face. He was looking down at me, his pine eyes tired but cheerful. He leaned down and placed a light kiss on my forehead and brushed my hair out of my face.

"You're probably right. But for real, my mom still thinks I'm a virgin."

I just laughed. Yeah, like Adonis here could keep the ladies off of his junk. It would truly be a waste.

We sat in companionable silence and after some time I was sure he had fallen asleep. The clock on the DVD player read 1:09AM, yet I was wide awake. The room was dimly lit by two lamps dotted around the small area. A hazy golden glow warmed light fabric of the sofa.

My eyes caught his feet hanging over the edge of the armrest and traveled up his lanky form, moving from his mismatched socks to his slightly worn jeans. His light gray button-up was bunched at his hip. A scandalous sliver of skin peeked out. I tore my eyes away and looked down at his hand that was stretched out over my forearm. There was a light dusting of hair on his knuckles and he wore no jewelry, save for the knotted bracelet and watch he wore on his wrist. His fingernails were neat and trim, his fingers long and masculine. _Ungh._

I took my free hand and gently rolled his hand over to expose his palm. I traced the many lines there and admired a tiny freckle in the center. I smiled to myself; his freckle matched the one I had on my own palm. The lyrics of an old song Iron & Wine covered was playing on loop in my mind.

_I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles  
In our eyes are mirror images and when  
We kiss they're perfectly aligned  
And I have to speculate that God himself  
Did make us into corresponding shapes like  
Puzzle pieces from the clay_

"Is this weird for you?" He asked out of the blue, startling me out of my revelry, "I mean I feel like I am in limbo. I want so much to touch you and kiss you and yet I'm scared of psyching you out or something. I can't have you running out on me. You're like wildlife and I've got to be careful in my approach."

"So I'm the skittish prey?" I mumbled into the cushion we shared, "I'm the helpless lamb?"

"And I'm the hungry lion." He took my hand gave me a light tug, encouraging me to roll over to face him. My body complied, our hips aligning and my face coming to rest over his heart. The soft thump emanating there lulled me into an unfamiliar calm.

"I don't want you to feel like a villain. You're anything but in my mind," I attempted to explain, attempted to calm his fears. A swift tension crowded the couch.

"Let's not make this right or wrong, Bella. I am fully committed to one week. After one week, we can re-evaluate. This whole thing might wash away and we can go back to what we left in Seattle," his voice was strained, almost like he was forcing his words, "I know it was presumptuous of me to just jet out here, but I really felt like I had no other choice." Gravel took away the velvet timbre that had inundated my dreams.

I felt afraid. Scared of the conflict that had taken over my mind and energy for some time now. I waffled, flip-flopped, seesawed. One second I was gung-ho and no nonsense. The next I was flaky and ridiculous and confused.

But I didn't want him to feel that way.

I didn't want him to be undecided.

I didn't want him to give up on me.

I wanted him to be fearlessly and foolishly committed. I wanted him to have the backbone I lacked.

But I knew what he was doing. Or at least I thought I did. Because I was doing the same thing.

He was not getting too invested. He was acting out of self-preservation.

"Edward," I whispered, "For the next week, treat me like you'd treat me if I didn't have a ridiculous amount of baggage. Treat me like we're really together. Let's live in a fantasy until we can't anymore."

He was silent for a few moments and my lungs ceased pulling air into my chest.

"I'm not going to ask for permission or forgiveness."

"I hope you don't."

In the time it took for my breath to finally push out of my lungs, his strong hands found purchase in the back pockets of my jeans. Hoisting me up his body so that we were face to face, I was staring into his bright eyes.

"You are so beautiful, Bella," he murmured as he stared at me.

"So are you." And he was. He was breathtakingly, painfully, overwhelmingly beautiful. He was beautiful in a way that made you ache deep down. He was beautiful in a way that made you second-guess yourself. But when he looked at me like that, when he spoke those words to me, I believed every single syllable and felt every bit as beautiful as him.

A line of white teeth appeared over the pillowy pink flesh of his bottom lip. He nibbled absently at the soft skin there, his eyes glassy with emotion and deep thought. What I wouldn't do to read his mind. I could only hope he was going to allow himself to truly fall into this.

To fall into me.

"I want to feel every line of your body." He slowly dragged a hand up my ribs.

"I want to memorize the taste of your lips." He drew his thumb over my pursed lips causing them to open and a whimper to escape.

"I want to know every thought that goes through your pretty head," His hand moved around to the nape of my neck and cradled my head. I was putty. I was melting. I was quickly becoming liquid, seeping out and evaporating.

"Will that be a problem?" His green eyes and dark lashes watched me as I prayed for oxygen and words and a voice. There was nothing, not a sigh or a whimper or a yes or a no. Just nothing.

"You aren't going to deny me that are you?"

He had turned on whatever mechanism prevented women from having a coherent thought. It had worked on me back at the bookstore and it sure as hell worked on me now.

His thumb began to stroke the back of my ear and I managed a small shake of my head.

"I'm not denying you anything," I rasped.

His lips fell onto mine. His arms drew me tight into him and I kissed him back slowly. Taking in the faintly minty taste of his lips and recording the sensation to memory. My lips tingled and my heart raced. I needed air, but I needed him more.

He rolled us onto his back, my hips riding just above the waistband of his denim jeans. I curled my feet around the back of his knees and clung to him. The newness of him. The reality of him. The feeling of him.

His hands grazed up and down my back before a hand caught the elastic in my hair. He smoothly pulled the band away and my brown hair tumbled down around us. The scent of my shampoo hung a heavy citrus in the air.

"I spent an hour at the grocery store trying to find shampoo that smelled like you," he spoke between kisses. I smiled against his lips.

"I don't buy my shampoo at the grocery store."

"So I discovered."

I sat up on his stomach and rested my hands on his chest. Dipping my thumb between the buttons on his shirt, I brushed against the warm skin and light hair of his chest. He shivered slightly in response.

"I bought a pack of cigarettes so that I could smoke them and think of you," I whispered bashfully.

He smiled a boyish smile and squeezed my hips.

"What am I going to do with you?" He asked, stretching his large hands over my thighs. A nostalgic heat rushed through my shoulders and came to rest squarely between my thighs.

"I was thinking more on the lines of what aren't you going to do with me?"

He grinned rakishly and pulled me back down to his lips.

"That is a much better question."

* * *

Hi guys,

Sorry for the hellacious wait. I have no excuses really. Just that this chapter was a pain in my ASS to write. I'm so glad it is over and done with. Phew. This was just was one of those necessary transitional chapters that don't really say much, they just do a lot. I hope you aren't to disappointed.

OK, bitching over.

I hope y'all will leave me some love. Or hate. Just any type of review really. I'm a h00r for them. :D

I'm four thousand words into the next chapter, so the wait shouldn't be too bad.

Oh yeah, and follow me on twitter --- maggienell

I love the hell out of my readers. Each and every one of y'all.


	10. There Goes the Fear

**Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight. I'm just fooling around with the characters.**

**A huge thanks goes out to FamouslySo (AllAtOnce) for her fabulous betaness. She always keeps me in line and has such nice things to say! **

_

* * *

Out of here  
We're out of here  
Out of heartache  
Along with fear  
There goes the fear again  
There goes the fear_

---------------

I cracked a tired eye and felt stiffness creep up my neck. We'd fallen asleep on the couch again. This time I was still perched on Edward's chest. His deep breaths simulating a boat ride – with each inhale and exhale, my body rose and fell rhythmically. I didn't move, instead held on tighter and pressed my face more firmly into his chest. The result was two strong arms purposefully curling themselves around my body.

My mind slipped, thinking back to Mike and his distaste for cuddling. His distaste for sleeping on the couch. Hell, his distaste for rolled up sleeves. Always so controlled, always so controlling.

Edward's breathing hitched in his sleep and brought me back to the present. His mouth snapped and popped lazily and his teeth ground together. My lip curled in contempt.

_Please don't let him be a noisy sleeper. _

He sank down further into the couch cushions and strange, small noises emanated from his throat – not quite a snore, not quite a wheeze. His head turned from side to side, his teeth grinding and lips smacking.

_What the hell?_

I'd slept without interruption for what? Five hours. How the fuck had his crazy sleep behaviors not woken me up? Between the head thrashing and the teeth noshing, it's a wonder I hadn't been bucked off of the couch sometime during thenight. I kind of tucked my feet tighter, wrapped my arms around him and rested my chin on his chest. I stared at his face and hoped he was having a dream and it would all pass soon. It was either a dream or a seizure. I couldn't be sure.

_It was like sleeping with a fucking three-year-old. _

Things were getting worse. His hands started moving and clutching my body. The wheezy gurgling grew louder and I started to feel a little panicked. I raised a hand to his shoulder and was going to wake him. But what if he was like a sleep walker and reacted violently to being woken? What if he backhanded me in his fitful sleep rage? Then again, what if he was actually having a seizure and choked on his tongue while I laid on top of him? How was I going to explain that to the police?

_Umm, yes sir, you've got that right. I was actually lying on top of him when said episode occurred. Yes, but I thought he was just having a bad dream… you know like dogs… when they twitch and jerk in their sleep._

Fuck it. I was going to have to wake him up. If he backhanded me, I would just have to ice it.

I slipped my hand down to his ribs and patted gently. I shook him lightly and all of the noises and movements increased. Terror clouded my face.

_I knew he was too good to be true. _

"Edward, wake up."

More tremors and gurgling. I shook him with more force.

"Edward, you're having a bad dream. Wake up."

No response. His face merely curled into a grimace.

"Edward!" I shouted, "You're having a bad dream! Wake up!" I shook him more and nothing.

I sat up on his chest, placing a hand on each of his shoulders, and started to sort of bounce in an attempt to stir him.

"You're having a bad dream or a seizure. Please get up!" My voice sounded frightened, but he didn't respond. I raised a hand to his cheek and lightly popped his tightened jaw.

"Edwaaaaaaaaaaarrrd!" I pleaded.

Finally, the jerking stopped. I stilled on top of his body, one hand on his shoulder, one hand on his chest.

I felt a funny vibration in his chest and my mind immediately flew past being panicked well into being terrified.

He was having a fucking heart attack.

His heart was vibrating under my palm.

The vibration increased.

I could almost hear it.

_Oh God, I can hear it!_

Wait… that was laughter.

He was fucking laughing.

His eyes popped open and stared back at me brightly. His lips twisted into a wide smile and laughter bellowed from him. His hands grasped my hips and my mouth just hung open.

_No he fucking didn't._

My body started to catch up with my mind, my hands fisted and I felt the urge to pound his chest. Adrenaline coursed through my veins and a light sheen of sweat covered my brow.

He was still laughing, unable to form a coherent sentence. Just a series of 'but,' 'you should have,' and what sounded like the word seizure.

"Edward this isn't funny," I scolded. He started to reply, but the laughter simply grew louder.

"Edward, that was very scary for me."

Still only laughter and gasping breaths.

"Edward, my last boyfriend died in his sleep. He had a seizure. I wasn't able to... wake him up," I whispered solemnly.

His laughter ceased altogether. His gripped loosened from my hips. His mouth hung open.

_Gotcha._

"Oh my God, Bella. I had no idea. I just…it was…I wasn't…" he stuttered and stammered. I felt minutely guilty for the guilt trip I was sending him on, but he deserved it.

"It was so scary Edward, like I was reliving the terror of that night." I was laying it on thick.

"Bella, I'm such a fucking idiot. I'm so sorry." His eyes were pleading, but we weren't quite there yet.

"It was so real, I couldn't wake you and I, I…" I paused dramatically, looking up at him mournfully. His face was twisted with a hundred different emotions. All of them a different shade of regret and remorse. "And I should have junk punched you to wake your sorry ass up!"

I slapped him on the thigh.

My eyes snapped up to his. I watched his face register what I had said.

_That's right. _

His face tightened and he looked on the verge of anger. I momentarily regretted goading him, but I recalled the stinging under my arms as he thrashed from what I feared was a heart attack or seizure.

We stared at one another.

It was a stand off.

A face off.

And then he burst into laughter. That joyful ringing. Not too loud. Not too creepy. Just right. Deep and warm and happy.

"You got me. I'll never do it again." He reached over and grabbed me gently by the back of the neck, pulling me towards him. "But in my defense, you drooled on me all night." He touched his lips to mine sweetly and I couldn't stop the resulting smile.

"I don't drool," I pouted as he tucked me back into his chest.

"Yes you do," he assured, "I always wondered what Uncle Buck meant by ___waking up_ thinking you were asleep in a ___swamp_, but last night I discovered what it was all about."

I pushed off of his chest indignantly and stared down at him. My eyes caught a slight discoloration on his breast pocket. His eyes followed mine and he laughed.

Shit.

It was a drool stain. I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks.

"But I _never_ drool."

"You sure as shit did last night," he laughed. I covered my face sheepishly, but he pulled my hands away.

"It's ok. I don't mind," he soothed, "I knew I made women drool…"

"You're an ass." I hopped off of him, taking a brief moment to stretch, before I started towards the bathroom.

"You sound like Rice Krispies," he joked and swung his long legs over the side of the couch, "Snap, crackle, and pop."

I just ignored his joke and proceeded to brush my teeth. I heard the clank of his bag hitting the floor. He padded into the bathroom, toothbrush in one hand, a few items of clothing in the other. The gray band of his Hanes boxers peered out at me. I couldn't look away.

Naturally, he caught me looking and laughed. He tugged the underwear out and laid them on top of the pile.

"You showed me yours. It is only fair that I show you mine." He stepped past me and dropped the clothes on the closed toilet seat. He stepped up to the sink and grabbed the toothpaste.

"We use the same brand," he smiled. I grinned dopily with my toothbrush hanging from my lips and toothpaste foam on my chin.

We stood there brushing our teeth. His clothes were impossibly wrinkled, his hair impossibly disheveled. Overall, impossibly handsome. It was so domestic. So natural. A happy sound hummed in my chest.

I finished brushing my teeth and Edward bent back to turn the shower on.

"You want coffee or anything?" I asked, grabbing a couple of towels from the linen closet.

He mumbled something that sounded like a _no _and _diner_. I just nodded and sat the towels down on top of his clothes. I slipped back behind him towards the door and he caught my wrist. He pulled the toothbrush from his mouth and bent down to kiss me lightly on the lips.

"Good morning," he whispered, toothpaste dribble on his chin.

"Good morning," I managed. I touched a hand to my lips and he smiled crookedly. He let my wrist go and proceeded with his prior task.

"Don't use all of the hot water," I warned as I left the bathroom.

"We can always shower together," he replied, "Don't leave on my account."

I just shook my head and stalked into the kitchen. I turned on a pot of coffee and went back into the living room to gather my things from last night. I straightened up the pillows on the couch and shoved our shoes into the basket by the door.

I grabbed his bag and my purse and headed into the bedroom. I passed by the bathroom and the door was wide open, Edward's clothes in a small pile by the tub. I swallowed thickly and craned my neck, hoping to catch a glimpse of him through the adjacent mirror. I couldn't make out anything. I wanted to stamp my foot, but instead I just headed into the bedroom and gathered my things for the shower.

I pulled out a pair of dark jeans and a light gray top. A thick brown belt and brown sandals would look nice and I'd be comfortable enough if we went for a long tour of Chicago. I pulled a few pieces of jewelry from my jewelry case and fussed over which pair of earrings to wear.

I heard the water shut off and the shower curtain open and close. I waited a few more minutes and slowly walked towards the bathroom. The door was still ajar and a fog of steam crept into the hall. I edged closer and could smell fresh, clean Edward.

"I'm dressed. You don't have to lurk around the corner."

"I wasn't lurking," I replied and opened and closed the linen closet. I grabbed a towel and walked into the bathroom. There, amid the steam and porcelain, was a vision of sex.

Edward. Wrapped haphazardly in a low slung towel, cleaning out his ear with a little Q-Tip. His pale body was still shiny and dark patches of hair distracted me. His body was lean and hard, but with soft looking areas all the same. His hair was wet and dark, pointing in every direction as though he'd just run a towel through it. My motor functions slowed and I cursed every hormone that came to life at that very moment.

"Take a picture. It'll last longer," he smirked.

What was is with him and the John Candy film quotes?

My mouth just opened and closed.

Open.

Close.

Open.

"You can't do things like that," I stammered, clutching the things in my hands close to my chest. He just continued on with his ridiculous grinning and tossed the Q-Tips into the garbage can.

"Why baby? I'm your_ boyfriend_. Boyfriends can take a shower and be seen partially naked in front of their girlfriends, right?" He moved until he was inches from me. I could smell and practically taste his warm skin.

I just gurgled and twitched, I briefly feared that I was going to pass out.

"Ok, _boyfriend_, get your half naked ass out of here so I can shower."

"The nakedness thing is equal opportunity, _girlfriend._"

"Out." I pointed at the door and he laughed and grabbed his clothes off of the toilet. He brushed by me and dropped a kiss on my shoulder. I shut the door behind him.

"Oh no, I'm carrying too much stuff," I heard him howl from behind the door, "My towel fell off."

My hand twisted the knob out of instinct, but I caught myself before I wrenched to door open.

"You were so close Swan, I heard the knob turn," he goaded. Instead of responding and feigning innocence, I just turned on the shower.

The water would have to be cold.

Really cold.

-------

"We'll split the Big Kahuna between us. And I'll have a large orange juice and she'll have…" He paused for me to respond.

"The same please. And a coffee with cream."

The waitress nodded and tried not to stare at Edward as he slouched over the table, twisting a lock of hair and staring down at the menu. I wanted to console her and let her know that every woman I've met while in his presence has had the same reaction.

Glassy eyes.

Surprised smile.

High-pitched voice.

She was, however, the first one to sweat above her lip. I was going to be kind and attribute that to her duties as a busy waitress and the fact that she was most likely in the throes of menopause.

"Anything else?" She asked, while he continued to pour over the menu.

"Do you still have fried bananas? I can't seem to find them on the menu." He looked up at her with quirked eyebrow, his smile on the verge of disappointment.

"An old timer," she grinned, "I'll get Siggy to get them right out… do you want powdered sugar?"

"And chocolate syrup," he cooed. Her smile brightened and she stuck her pen behind her ear.

"It'll be just a few." She grabbed up our menus and skittered off to the kitchen.

"This place isn't as busy as I remembered it being. Sundays used to have a line down the block," he observed, throwing a cautious look around the retro themed diner.

"Well, maybe it's just a slow day," I offered, "That or it's slow because it's only barely daylight." I yawned.

"Yeah, probably…" he looked around the diner, quietly taking in the familiar sights and smiling kindly at the table beside us. I looked over to see an older couple, sitting on the same bench sharing a waffle. The plate was piled high with nearly six inches of canned whipped cream and enough syrupy strawberries to send them into a diabetic coma. The old man playfully spoon fed the old woman and kissed away the cream he got on her cheek. I sighed in response to their sweet interaction.

"So, Miss Swan, if we're going to do this right, we need to get our story straight." Edward reached across the table and laid his hand palm up for me to take.

"Our story?" I asked taking his hand.

"The story of me and you."

I was confused.

"The story of us. Our cover," he clarified as the waitress set our drinks down.

"Oh, well, I don't know. Shouldn't we just stay as close to the truth as possible. We met at your store. You were terribly flirtatious and took me out to lunch. The rest is history."

He looked at me incredulously. His eyebrows knit in clear disapproval. He shook his head.

"What? That is as good a story as any? Besides I'm a terrible liar," I defended.

"No, it isn't. Here's what I'm thinking," he took a long drink of his orange juice and looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. His bottom lip caught between his teeth and his eyes tightened.

"Ok. We met at a child birthing class. You were with a girlfriend of yours and I went with one of my single friends who just so happens to be having a baby…"

_Wow, completely random._

"Wait, so you go to a Lamaze class and I scope you out and pick you up? Doesn't that make me a bit trampy?"

I ignored the fact that in reality I was a bit of a tramp.

"Well, I guess that could be misinterpreted… Here's one. We met in the ER waiting room. We were both there with friends who had minor injuries that left us waiting for hours. Being the solid friend that you are, you waited for hours on end with your broken and bleeding friend. We just so happened to sit next to one another in the waiting area and sparked a conversation."

I mulled over the idea. It sounded legitimate enough and didn't cast either of us as a villain. I shrugged.

"Ok. How long have we been dating?"

"Almost seven months."

"And when is our anniversary?"

"October 31st. We started officially dating on Halloween. We went to a party dressed as Mr. and Mrs. Claus. I was walking you home and asked you to go steady," he smiled crookedly, "You agreed. You were drunk though, not black out drunk, but you agreed nonetheless."

I snorted loudly and our waitress dropped down four large plates in front of us. Piles of sausage, ham, eggs, bacon, toast, and hash browns overflowed the oval platters. My eyes bulged and I laughed at the overwhelming portion sizes.

"The Big Kahuna," I muttered. Edward thrust a set of wrapped silverware at me and encouraged me to dive in.

"Hell yes, this is the best greasy spoon you'll ever visit. Emmett, Rosalie's husband, downs one all by himself," Edward gushed as he unfolded a paper napkin and pressed it down into his lap. Our waitress stepped back over with his plate of bananas.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"Ketchup, salsa, and two plates if you wouldn't mind," he asked in his velvety purr. She winked and sashayed away.

"So do you like get a prize for eating 15,000 calories in one sitting?" I joked as I plunged my fork into the sea of eggs and cheese before me.

"Not here, but he did get a t-shirt once at this diner in Canada. He ate a ten pound pancake," he said matter-of-factly, as though competitive eating was a common thing.

"Well," I shook my head in disbelief. I didn't really have any commentary on that. Edward just smiled brightly and grabbed an empty plate. He proceeded to pour a half bottle of Heinz Ketchup on it and a half bottle of chunky salsa on the other empty dish.

I just sat and watched him. He bubbled on about Emmett and his various eating accomplishments. It was such a welcome change from the normal drivel I was used to. Mike's conversations tended towards the changes in the financial sector, sailing, or his mother. When he wasn't spouting off on those topics he sat silently reading the New York Times and being oblivious to my presence.

But Edward. Edward was kinetic. He was motion. He was moving me. Pushing me. Pulling me.

I felt like I was moving forward even as I sat there, watching him drag huge spoonfuls of greasy eggs through a plate of salsa. He was momentum and electricity.

He made _me _feel electric.

No one had made me feel electric. Ever.

I began to laugh as Edward laughed. It didn't matter what he was laughing about, whatever it was, if it was worthy of his affections, it was worthy of mine. He pulled his straw to his lips and drank more of his orange juice. His eyes glittering over the rim of his glass, I could feel myself warming to him. As cliché as it sounds, it was like my limbs were waking up from a deep sleep and I could feel.

What I felt wasn't all good.

I felt stinging pains from years of neglect. Neglect to both who I was and who I had become.

I felt aches from years of trying to be someone else.

I felt strained from holding myself, my true self, back.

I ran a fork full of hash browns through the plate of ketchup and shoveled it into my mouth, gracelessly.

"That's the spirit," he encouraged. I chomped sloppily and took a swig of my coffee.

"I haven't eaten ketchup in years. Mike didn't like ketchup and so I didn't eat it. Isn't that stupid?"

"We all do stupid things. But who is this Mike guy?"

He eyed me questioningly. I slipped up. I'd fallen out of character.

"Oh, just some schmuck I knew way back when," I waved it off dismissively. I moved quickly to change subjects. "So even though I was black out drunk, you still asked me to be your girlfriend? What's wrong Cullen? Afraid I'd turn you down?"

He stopped ladling his breakfast.

"Absolutely terrified."

-----------

After the caloric overload that was breakfast, I suggested we walk the city a bit.

We spent the majority of the day walking the familiar blocks of Edward's childhood. He told me stories of his younger years. He showed me where he attended elementary, middle, and high school. He took me around to the different places he'd worked as a teenager. Bits and pieces of the things that made him the man that he was today.

We'd stop along the way to grab something to drink or eat or maybe to have a cigarette.

"I need to go to the grocery store."

"For what?" he asked, wrapping a long arm around my shoulder. I responded by looping my arm around his waist, dropping my hand into his droopy back pocket.

_I must be feeling bold._

"My crazy houseguest has this ridiculous appetite and an impossible affection for ketchup. I need to stock up," I joked.

"That's not the only thing he's got an impossible affection for," he whispered into my ear. I shivered in response. My body reeled at the sensation.

"What else does he like? Salsa?" I husked.

"Salsa _and _Bella."

"Then I'm glad I have access to plenty of both."

He pulled in a jerky breath and brought me closer to him. We were weaving carelessly across the sidewalk.

"Bella, please don't tempt me in public. I can't promise I won't do something inappropriate."

"Oh, so it's ok as long as we're in private?"

"You can do whatever you want to me in private."

I stopped moving and tipped my chin upwards. His eyes caught mine and there was an unfamiliar expression. I decided to tread more carefully and stretched to give him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. I smiled sweetly and wrapped my other arm around him.

I looked down at my feet as we walked. His hipster boots made me smile. A wandering eye moved up his body, past his slightly frayed jeans to… my eyes caught at an obvious bulge. A bulge where…

_Oh shit._

I looked back up at him. He had slipped his sunglasses on and between the sight of him in his Ray-Bans and his erection, I was about to have a fucking orgasm. I couldn't stop myself, my eyes darted back down to the birthplace of every wet dream I would ever have from now on.

I just stared at it, almost willing it to disappear. For both of our sakes. I couldn't navigate the mean Chicago streets while staring down at his erection and I would assume he didn't appreciate his package there on display.

His gait began to slow and he maneuvered us into a secluded area near a loading dock.

"I told you I was not going to apologize," he breathed into my ear, "And I am not going to apologize for the way my body reacts to you." He pressed me against the brick wall with force, my breath left in a gush, but I found it again quickly in sharp gasps.

I swallowed thickly. I couldn't see his eyes for his sunglasses and I desperately wanted to memorize the heat they held when he felt aroused, when he felt aroused because of me. He took breaths through slightly parted lips; his tongue darted out to run across his bottom lip.

His lips sunk into mine, kissing me deeply. His teeth captured my bottom lip and tugged gently, my hands fisted through his silky hair. A hand found my waist and he took me even closer into him while the other wrapped around the nape of my neck. Our lips pressed together with intensity and need, never slowing, but merely deepening our contact in the flurry of movement.

My lips parted and our tongues swept over one another. The unmistakable taste of him glossed the inside of my mouth. It tingled like hot peppermint.

I couldn't think about what we were doing, rather I only felt the kiss of his stubble against my chin. The whisper of his eyelashes on my cheeks. The steely grip of his hands on my body. The liquid fire pooling between my legs. The unrepentant pressure of his arousal at my hip.

"Bella…you make…me…wild," he managed between kisses.

The hand on my hip fell away only to ghost over the covered flesh of my ribs. With tender movements, his fingers traced the lines of my body and sent an ache pulsing through me.

A hopeful sheen slicked the skin between my breasts.

My body was telling me what my conscious mind was hesitant to admit.

I wanted him.

Everywhere.

And in every way.

I moaned as his lips slipped from my own and trailed down the oversensitive skin of my neck. His head dipped down to the hollow of my collarbone. Heavy, open mouth kisses pressed into the thin skin. His tongue darted out and smoothed over the bone there.

Of their own accord, my hands grabbed and flattened over the planes of his back. The firm cast of his body was covered by the downy fabric of his sweater. My mind was forced to recall the visions from earlier in the morning. His body pink from the hot shower. His skin slick with moisture and smooth with youth. I clawed at his sweater, pulling it up and pressing my palms against the white hot heat of his skin. Tiny noises bubbled up from my throat. I felt insatiable.

Edward's nimble hands ceased their torturous climb up and down my ribs. In earnest reverence, a timid hand slipped under the heather gray material of my shirt. His slightly cool touch found the overheated skin of my stomach. A lazy finger traced the circle of my bellybutton and my body hunched over in response. My forehead found his shoulder and his lips grazed the lobe of my ear.

"I want you Bella. I want you more than I think I've ever wanted anything else."

"Oh, Edward," I moaned.

His hand slid further up my shirt.

My already hardened nipples tightened painfully in anticipation of his touch. Panting breaths rang in my ear and I was unsure which were his and which were my own. The steady thunder of my pulse rang loudly and it was only a matter of time before he could feel it.

I pushed his sunglasses up onto his head so that I could see his eyes. They were burning with passion. They were burning for me.

It had been so long. It had been so long since I felt desired.

And now passion was pouring over me.

His hand slipped under the stiff wire of my bra and tickled the swell of my breast. A hitched breath broke free from my throat and I groaned in pleasure. I felt pathetic for reacting so powerfully from such a light touch. Surely he thought I was desperate and green.

"Those sounds are going to end me," he husked into my ear. "Those sounds and the sensation of your sweet skin will be my downfall." He pressed himself into me and my pussy throbbed. I reached down to palm his stiff cock through his jeans. My hand barely grazed him before he took my wrist and brought it back to his neck.

I locked eyes with him. His gaze was dark and committed.

_This is for you, _it said. I shivered at his display of selflessness and in the realization of my own need.

I couldn't need him this much.

Not yet.

I couldn't need him this bad.

It was too intense.

He kneaded and caressed me to the brink of climax. Short bursts of air left my lips and my eyes squeezed closed. The need built quickly, thick and plush in my stomach. I was going to come at his fondling me alone.

In desperation, I ground myself against him. Hoping to create more friction between my legs, I widened my stance and moved myself over his knee.

I felt embarrassed. The months without sexual contact had made me quick on the draw. It was as though I was a 15-year-old boy dry humping with his first 'serious' girlfriend. It was experimental and going to be over too soon.

"Edward," I panted, "I'm going to…"

"Yes, Bella, let me help."

He dropped his other hand to my waist and brought his lips back to my mouth. His hand clenched the thick denim at the apex of my thighs. With perfect pressure he ground his hand against the throbbing ache in my pussy.

I forgot everything.

Where I was.

What I was wearing.

How long we'd been standing there.

Everything but who I was with and the indulgent pleasure he was giving me.

My forehead found his shoulder again and he whispered small words into my ear, pressing me on towards my final destination. Each word fell out in hot waves against my neck. I bit my lip to keep from screaming as the tightness increased and my unraveling began.

"Bella look at me," Edward instructed into my ear. I whimpered and shook my head in embarrassment.

"Look. At. Me."

I sheepishly lifted my head until I could see his green eyes. A tranquil smile dripped from his lips, his face the picture of calm. I could only imagine what I looked like. Pink with lust and wild with the sensation of his hands on me.

I speared my hands through his hair and brought his lips to mine, our persistent tongues wildly competing for dominance.

His hand increased speed and pressure only to bring me over the edge. I mewled into his mouth, a long and shaky cry of pleasure. He breathed deeply, taking my pleasure into his body without caution.

He held me close, his nose tucked into the loose hair at the crook of my neck and sweet, wet kisses fell on the skin of my shoulder. I clung to him tightly, spasms breaking over my body in waves as I came down from our encounter.

Our very _public _encounter.

Realization struck and I looked around for any witnesses. Edward's throaty laugh vibrated against my chest.

"No one saw, sweet girl. That was shared between us alone."

I sighed in relief and let my head fall back against the bricks behind me.

"God Edward… that was…"

My words failed me.

He chuckled. "That was only second base."

-------

_Close your brown eyes  
And lay down next to me  
Close your eyes, lay down  
'Cos there goes the fear  
Let it go_

* * *

**Well, I hope you enjoyed that. **

I just wanted to address something really quick... I've gotten some concerns that Bella is a little uptight. I can understand this, but keep her situation in mind. She is in a quasi breakup with her fiance. She is currently shacking up with Bookward. She wants to let go, but is scared to screw everything up. She is hesitant, cautious, and it comes off as being a bit cool.

Things are changing for her though. As we've seen in this chapter, she really wants Edward. So, maybe his sweet lovin' can warm her cold heart. :D

Oh, and let me do some shameless self promotion.... I've started a new fic, _All that Glitters_. Check out my profile for a link. It is completely different from T_he Sweetest Thing_, but I don't think that is a bad thing.

**Reviews are like second base... No, that's a lie. Reviews are like a home run. **


	11. Good Girls Go Bad

**Stephanie Meyer owns. I do not.**

**I must thank FamouslySo for her always outstanding Beta work, as well as my guest beta LittleSecret84 for pulling herself out from underneath Chuck Bass long enough to beta this one too! Ladies, you rock my socks off. **

**See you down below. **

**

* * *

EPOV**

I wanted to push her through the brick wall and get her away from me.

I wanted to pull her inside of me and beg her to stay there, force her inside like a Christmas tree shoved into the trunk of a VW Rabbit.

I wanted to kiss her.

I wanted to scream out loud.

I wanted to laugh.

I wanted to cry.

I wanted to keep her.

It was too much. It was too good. It was too easy.

She shook and swallowed deep breaths. Her palms had flattened against the skin of my back, no longer grabbing handfuls of my shirt. Her eyelashes fluttered against the sensitive skin of my neck and her lips pushed into my skin.

I held her as she came back to me.

"Thank you for that," she whispered, "I'm sorry I…"

I cut her off, leaning back to look into those deep eyes.

"If you apologize, it will cheapen it. Don't do that to what I know will become a fond memory." I brushed back a few hairs that were stuck to her forehead and kissed her lips. "It's just me and you sweet girl. Just Mr. and Mrs. Claus. No one else. Nowhere else."

I tried to explain without words what I meant by that, my eyes pleading and my hands giving her the permission and forgiveness she struggled to find. What we did didn't have to be wrong. It didn't have to be a mistake or unforgivable.

I just wanted it to be something nice, something special for her to have. A memory from a better time, place, person.

She nodded and hugged me. This was hard for her and part of me was thankful for it.

I would hate to see that giving up on someone she loved was easy, whether that love be real or imagined. I didn't want it to be something she could do without conscience, without a second thought.

And there were moments that I feared that I would become a second thought.

And those moments kept me anchored to the idea that I only had a week with her. I was only guaranteed six more days before it could all come crashing down around us. Good or bad, I had to give it my all.

I had to give her all of me.

Because you do stupid things and you risk important parts of yourself for some people. You don't think it through to the end, just far enough down the line to encourage you to keep moving forward. You're reckless and careless and hopeful all at the same time.

And she deserved that. She deserved that from someone. She deserved that from me.

"Let's get going," I said into her hair. I stepped away from her and took her hand. She walked on wobbly knees and I laughed under my breath.

"Shut up, Cullen," she barked good-naturedly, swatting my arm with little force.

I opened my mouth to make a smart comment, but she stopped me. She stood in front of me, eyes still glassy and lips curled into a smile.

"Why does it feel so good to be around you?"

I started to respond with something stupid and overtly romantic, but her fingertips found my lips and I could only kiss them and stay silent. It felt natural.

Her head shook softly from side to side. "We need to get out of the alley. We're beginning to look homeless."

Her hand dropped from my lips and wrapped around my bicep. We walked back out among the crowds in the direction of the grocery store a few blocks up.

"I want to play a game," she said, "I ask you a question and you have to answer it. I will, in turn, do the same."

I smiled at her and almost told her we didn't have to play a game. She could just ask me. I would tell her without the guise of playing by the rules. But I just nodded, slipped my sunglasses down onto the bridge of my nose, and waited for her to begin.

"What is your favorite birthday memory?"

"Favorite birthday," I scratched my jaw in consideration, "That would have to be my tenth birthday. My parents took me and six of my friends camping out in Apple River Canyon. We made dinner over the campfire and my dad told lame stories he meant to be scary. My mom kept trying to drown us all in bug spray because Willie Taylor was allergic to mosquitoes." I laughed at the memory. "What's yours?"

"Probably when I turned 12; my mom had the Avon lady come over and she gave me and three of my best friends a makeover. The makeup was hideous, but it was fun. My mom bought me a 'big girl' compact."

My mind flashed to Bella as a girl – soft and round, so awkward and unsure of herself. It made me think of Donucci's, when she seemed broken and sad and meek. It made me feel sick.

The woman with me now was different. She was struggling, but equally empowered.

"First pet."

"Weimaraner name Lucy. She was the first girl I ever loved. And you, first pet?"

"I never had pets as a kid. I had a beta fish in college, but he died. Favorite meal?"

"Sushi, spicy tuna roll to be exact. Favorite fruit?"

"Kiwi. Best Christmas present?"

"Peavey Ecoustic amp. Craziest thing you did in high school?"

She laughed at this one, but answered. "I mooned the School District Superintendant while on the bus back from a football game."

I laughed. "Why the hell did you do that?"

"It was a dare and I didn't know it was her obviously, but I paid dearly for it. She forced me to serve a few days of in-school suspension and after that, I had to serve on the Yearbook Staff to show my school spirit."

"Were you a cheerleader?" I was a little too excited about the prospect of her in a cheerleading uniform.

She scoffed. "No. I was a ball bitch. And before you get too many ideas, it was my job to make sure there were fresh water bottles at the ready and that all of the nasty equipment was wiped down." Her eyes wrinkled in contempt.

"My dad was, or rather _is_, the police chief back home and he _had_ to attend all of the games to serve as a 'safety officer.' Seeing as he was terribly overprotective, he wouldn't leave me home alone and so he forced me to participate. I'm terribly uncoordinated and would have never made the cheer squad so ball bitch was the best I could do."

She laughed to herself and waved her hand dismissively, "What is the craziest thing you ever did?"

"Well, I flew halfway across the country for a girl I didn't even know." I looked at her and she pinked up with a blush, the apples of her cheeks burning with emotion. "It was the craziest thing I've ever done, but it is also turning out to be one of the best things too."

I reached over and cupped her cheek, feeling the warmth on my palm. I dipped down and gently brushed my lips over the skin that seemed the reddest.

"Bella, you're too good to be true."

"The kiwi looks delicious," I commented from my spot in front of a large display of produce. Bella was a few steps away, not so covertly eating cherries right out of the flat, a bright red basket hanging from the crook of her arm.

"Throw 'em in the basket," she smiled and spit the cherry pit into her hand, looking around sheepishly before slipping it into her pocket. I couldn't help but laugh as she placed a carton of Rainier cherries in the basket.

I turned back and bagged a few kiwis before walking over to her. I dropped them into her basket while she looked at me guiltily. I crooked my head in question and looked at her feet. Three apples had fallen from the pyramid of apples she now hovered over. Her hands held up a few apples that threatened to fall. I bent down, gathered them up and wiped them off with the hem of my shirt then righted the few apples that she kept from falling to the ground.

"All better, sweet girl," I leaned over and kissed her on her full lips. She responded to me instantly and I reeled at the sensation. With her it had been hesitant and slow going, but now… now she answered each of my gestures with vigor and heat and want.

Her body wanted me, that was without question, but her mind still faltered.

I still struggled to wrap my head around what we had done in the alley. Her sounds. Her touch. Her breath on my skin. They all called out to me. They begged me. It was as if her body was pleading with me for something and all signs pointed to release. A release I was happy to offer. No strings attached.

No reciprocation necessary.

I had bargained with myself on the flight over. I had banked on the fact that she would be as skittish and as inflexible as she was in Seattle, but she wasn't. She wasn't backing away after each encounter. In fact, she was moving forward. In her subtle ways, she was opening up to me.

I tried to stay light. I tried to be friendly and unassuming. I didn't want to be aggressive, but she was asking me to. Her whimpers in my ear and her tentative touches and plaintive glances all told me she needed me. She needed me to take the lead without stepping on her toes.

So I did. I made up a story about us. It was crazy and, in all honestly, it was something I'd seen on television once in college. But it didn't stop old memories from seeping into our fantasy. Her face would fall and her eyes would cloud with guilt and unhappiness. I played the part and acted dumb when she'd slip up and talk about him. She would play it off smoothly and smile her easy smile and we'd move on.

I wanted to give her all of the things she'd been denied because I felt compelled to, inexplicably compelled to be all that she would ever need.

It was beginning to scare me.

If she told me to jump, I couldn't promise that the words 'how high?' wouldn't come out of my mouth.

But the most beautiful part of it was that she had no idea of the effect she had on me.

When I had her pressed against the gritty brick wall all I could think about was how much I wanted her to feel something between us. I felt her hand slip down between us and her eyes looked to mine in search of permission, but I didn't want her to think this was something she was getting in return for something else.

It wasn't. I was doing what I was doing because I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't deny her. I couldn't deny me. It was selfish of me. I wanted my hands on her skin and so much more. I wanted what I couldn't have. At least not now. Or so I hoped.

"You going to get my ketchup?" I asked her, stopping our kiss while I still had a meager amount of self control. Her head fell back to my shoulder and she chuckled.

"Are you going to stop breaking off all of our kisses with crazy questions?"

--------

After a long stroll through the grocery store, we finally emerged and made it back to the apartment. We stood in the kitchen putting stuff away, laughing at each other and just enjoying being near one another.

"Do you realize it took you two hours to buy thirty-four dollars worth of groceries?"

"Do you realize that you complained for an hour and a half of that time?" She shoved cans of tomato soup into the pantry and flitted around the smallish kitchen.

I laughed. "I guess I didn't realize that."

"Why did you want all of this stuff anyway? There's enough protein here to feed a small army of Atkins Dieters." She held up a baggie of shaved deli meat in one hand and sliced Swiss cheese in the other. Her features expressed suspicion.

"Well, since you are going to ruin the surprise anyway by playing your favorite game of 2,000 questions, I'm taking you on a picnic tomorrow." I walked over and took the sandwich stuff from her and put them in the fridge.

"Where are we going?" Her brown eyes were excited and her cheeks began to redden. The flush immediately propelled my thoughts back to our back alley antics. I breathed out a sigh, but it sounded much more like a groan.

"Ok, ok," she gruffed, "Don't tell me."

I chuckled as she tried to pout and shuffle things around on the kitchen counter. It looked like she was getting things together for dinner. I said a silent prayer that she was at least a half decent cook; because Lord knows I couldn't prepare anything outside of a sandwiches and a pan of brownies. Both of which I planned to woo her with the following day.

"You won't be disappointed and you won't need to worry about dressing up," I revealed.

"That really tells me a lot," she pouted. Her pink lips were slick and my chest filled up with air that I couldn't seem to force out. It was painful and distracting. I pushed the feeling back.

"Bella, there's no need to pout. I'm not going to tell you anything more than that. No matter how much you flaunt your feminine wiles before me." I stepped closer to her and my hand reached out and caught her elbow, spinning her to look at me.

Her brown eyes were round and yet slightly creased with contempt. I rubbed my thumbs across the corners and smoothed out the lines. Her ruby lips fell open to form a small circle. I caught a glimpse of her tongue and it felt like the blood left my extremities and flooded my groin. My hands tingled and my feet felt like they were made of lead.

It was then that I knew the tables had turned. In this moment, I was no longer self assured. I no longer felt like I could smile and be charming and melt her to my will.

No, I was the one being melted.

I was the one quaking under her touch.

She was mesmerizing me and I couldn't will my eyes away. I didn't want or need to. They were burned onto the back of my eyelids. I would close my eyes and only see hers.

Her small hand slid up my arm to the scruff of my neck and a whimper escaped my lips. I felt ragged and raw. I was embarrassed, but I couldn't figure out why.

It was most likely because I was no longer in control of myself and I knew my instincts would drive me deep inside of her. I could not be held accountable for my actions while under the influence of her.

_Fuck, don't think about being deep inside of her._

She pulled me down to her and kissed both corners of my mouth before touching her lips against mine. Her kisses were sweet and chaste, but soon turned into more. Our tongues touched and slid against one another. Sighs fell onto warm lips and nipping teeth. Her hands wound themselves into my hair and pulled my face tighter against hers.

My cock swelled and strained against the soft cotton of my boxers. I had never felt anything as fucking amazing as the feel of her tiny fingers tangling themselves in my hair. Female hands had run through my hair on many an occasion, but her hands were different. Or maybe it was all just in my head.

I wanted desperately for her to wrap her hands around me in a completely different way. More specifically, I wanted one of her hands in my hair and the other jerking me into oblivion.

_Fuck, don't think about her hands._

Our lips worked succinctly, opening and closing in time and with equal fervor. I tried to focus on the feeling of her lips and the ferocity of her tongue. Anything other than my swollen erection that was sure to out my desire to fuck her up against the refrigerator.

I opened my eyes, thinking that maybe if I didn't allow myself the fantasy playing in my mind, I'd be able to stop myself from ripping off her jeans and plowing her. Instead, with my eyes open, I could plainly see the determined crease in her brow and flushed pink cheeks.

"Bella," I moaned, "Something is about to start and I'm–"

"What do you mean about to start?" A hand slipped from my hair and traveled down my chest and stomach, making my skin crawl and catch fire all at the same time. "I'd say _something_ started a while ago," she simpered into my ear before catching my earlobe between her lips.

Her fingertips hovered over the button on my jeans and I had the overwhelming urge to bend her over the counter and fuck her wildly. I made some pervy noise as she ran her fingertips across the waistline of my pants. She was going to kill me. Her lips crashed back into mine and I nearly lost consciousness when her hand popped the button on my jeans.

She wasn't coy. She wasn't rough. She didn't act nervous or let on to the fact that she was near seconds from fondling me. _For fuck's sake, I hope that's her plan. _She played it cool and I thought I was going to throw up from the sensation of her hand inches away from my cock.

My hands gripped the countertop for support because it was either that or I was surely going to grab a boob in a less than romantic gesture.

"Edward," she whispered against my lips, "You don't mind do you?"

I started to ask her what she meant when her palm made full contact with my cock.

I almost fucking busted a nut right then and there. Angels started singing, crime stopped, babies were born and Donald Trump's Rogaine finally started to work.

_Fuck, don't think about Donald Trump._

My eyes popped open and my head dipped back, breaking our kiss. She smiled back and I felt her hand tighten and take a more substantial grip around me.

"Ugh," I muttered, "Mind… I don't mind. Feel free."

_Feel free? What the hell, Cullen?_

"Ok then, I will." Bella licked her lips and I closed my eyes, waiting for her to grace me with more of her kisses. "Take off your shirt," she whispered, hot and breathy into my ear. I felt goose bumps race down my neck and arm.

I barely restrained myself from requesting that she too remove her shirt, but obliged without question and peeled my shirt off of my back. Her free hand ran across my chest and was soon joined by her lips. She made wet, juicy kisses over my nipples and collarbone, all the while continuing with her little game in my pants.

"I love a man with a little chest hair," she smiled and ran her fingers through the sparse dusting of hair in the middle of my chest. Without warning her hand slipped from my pants and I swear I had to hold back tears from welling up in my eyes.

I gave a weak whimper and both of her hands came to rest on my shoulders. She gave me another kiss on the lips and tweaked my nipple lightly. "Don't complain," she chuckled, "I'm not done yet."

More senseless sounds fell from my lips and I just closed my eyes and loosened my grip on the counter. I felt her hands explore my chest and all of the exposed skin. Her lips made a trail down my chest and I felt her get lower and lower.

My cock was in hysterics by the time I felt the silky soft flutter of her hair against the skin of my lower abdomen. Was she really about to do what I really hoped she was?

"Is there anything I should know about your sexual history? Any…" she cleared her throat, nervousness peaking in, "…conditions?"

I swallowed thickly. "No, I'm clean."

I couldn't play Mr. Nice Celibate Guy any longer, if she didn't have her lips or hand or something on me in a short period of time, I might just fucking jizz in my pants.

She kissed around my belly button and I squirmed in response. Her fingers threaded through my belt loops and she tugged my pants down my legs. Bella ran her nose along the lines of my stomach and her hot breath made my cock twitch in response.

There were more angels singing and birds chirping. I could see the pearly gates of Heaven before me.

Fingernails and smooth palms somehow manifested into a cold shock of air encapsulating the massive wood that I was sporting. I looked down at Bella, eyes hooded and lips slick and smiling. She peered up at me deviously before dropping down to her knees. She was eyelevel with my completely exposed dick and she was shamelessly staring.

"Well Mr. Cullen, I'd say you've been holding out on me. Who knew that your best feature wasn't your crooked smile or sex hair?" She put a finger to her lip in mock consideration and dipped it into the corner of her mouth. She was the fucking hottest thing ever with her under-the-radar sexual prowess.

"Bella," I choked out, "I… It…We don't –"

"If you apologize, it will cheapen it. Don't do that to what I know will become a fond memory." My words came back at me and the full force of what she was saying wasn't lost. I smiled slowly and ran a lazy hand through my 'sex hair.'

I felt the need to say something back to her, but the only things I could come up with were highly inappropriate.

_Well then, by all means proceed._

_Bella, please suck my dick._

_Do you spit or swallow?_

I just kept my lips pressed tightly together and my hands braced me for what was coming next.

_Hopefully I will be coming next._

Bella's hot little palms came to rest on my bare thighs and her warm breath ghosted over the thin skin of my cock. Her nose came back and nuzzled the muscle that ran across my hip and I almost thrust into her.

A hand came up and gripped the base of my shaft, her fingers fitting around it with grace and deft ability. She slowly slid her hand up and down, taking a moment to give extra attention to the head. My stomach tightened and I stared down my body at the chocolate and ivory that knelt at my feet.

I could see down the front of her sweater and her breasts taunted me mercilessly. I had to look elsewhere or this would be over in a matter of seconds. I looked out the window at the skyline that appeared over the rooftop of the building alongside ours. There were a few stars in the hazy twilight and I made a point to thank each and every one of them for granting me this moment.

"Oh Bella," I sighed. She increased in speed at the sound of my words, her lips still kissing the over sensitive skin of my lower stomach.

My hips tilted slightly with each tug of her fingers and without warning, her lips wrapped around the head of my cock. She sucked lightly and I cried out at the sensation. She took me in as far as she was able and bobbed her head up and down. All I could feel was the perfect suction of her mouth mixed with wet tongue and the ideal amount of teeth scraping with each upstroke.

She moaned over me and the hot vibration sent me blindly into the direction of release. Her tongue was everywhere and her other hand made pressure where her mouth could not. I wouldn't last long with her taking me like this.

I ran a hand gently through her loose brown hair. I didn't try to guide her because it was more than obvious that she knew exactly how to make me come. I simply rested my hand on her head and basked in the sensation of her hot mouth.

"Bella," I panted, feeling my orgasm approaching, "Your mouth…fuck… your lips—" My thoughts were disjointed and the words fell from my mouth without hesitation. The pressure of her hand and the constant sucking and swirling of her mouth had me at the cusp of release. I barely opened my eyes to see hers looking back at me, dark with lust.

The sight of my cock moving in and out of her perfect mouth had me undone.

"Bella, I'm going to…" I couldn't complete my thought so I attempted to bring her mouth away from me.

She whimpered over me with a sound of disagreement. Her pressure increased and her free hand came up and took the hand that I had placed on the back of her head. She intertwined our fingers and ended my attempt to move her.

I bit my lip and felt my cock twitch inside of her. I groaned and shook as she kept bobbing over me, her movements helping me ride out the high. My hand clenched tightly around hers as my body let go of the delicious tension my orgasm created.

Her name dripped from my lips and a wide smile wrote itself over my face. I wanted to be self conscious over how long the whole ordeal took, or rather didn't take. I wanted to over analyze everything I said and thought and did or didn't do, but rather than ruin the moment, I extended a hand to Bella and helped her to her feet.

I pulled her to me and wrapped my arms around her. I enjoyed the feeling of her face pressed against my chest. I dropped kisses on the crown of her head and tilted her chin upwards to kiss her lips.

"That was amazing," I whispered.

She chuckled. "Well, I do have skills," I felt her arms tighten around my waist, "God, I sound like a whore."

I laughed out loud. "Hey, don't talk about my girlfriend like that."

--------

Bella was brushing her teeth and getting ready for bed.

I was in the bedroom texting my dad to see if I could borrow my old car for the next day. I wanted everything to go well on our little trip. I'd already set the alarm on my phone to go off at 7am so I could get up and get everything packed.

I could hear her bumping around in the bathroom, rinsing her mouth and tapping her toothbrush on the sink. I slipped off my pants and sat down on the bed, fluffing the pillow beside me.

She padded into the bedroom and dropped her dirty clothes into the hamper. She looked up at me and rolled her eyes.

"A bit presumptuous aren't we," she gestured towards the bed, "Just because I performed a little fellatio doesn't mean I'm sharing the sheets with you."

She sat down on the other side of the bed and just sort of stared at me, all beautiful and distracting and confusing. My mouth opened and closed as I tried to find words.

"Close your mouth," she tipped my chin and closed my mouth, "I was just kidding. I'd be happy to sleep with you." She smirked and pulled the fluffy comforter up as she shoved her legs underneath, wiggling to get comfortable. I followed suit and ducked under the covers.

"I promise to be a perfect gentleman."

"Oh, I know you will," she turned onto her side facing me, "You can't handle this yet."

She sat up a bit and leaned over me, tits directly in my face, so that she could turn off the lamp on the bedside table. I wanted to bury my face in her cleavage and go on a little trip in the motorboat.

"You are so right," I managed to reply.

Darkness cloaked the room and Bella wiggled a little more to get comfortable. I rolled on my side behind her and my hand hovered in the air trying to decide whether or not to pull her into me and spoon with her.

Bella must have felt my indecision and took the lead, shoving her ass directly into my swiftly hardening dick.

"Perfect gentleman, my ass," she scoffed as she felt my erection, wriggling against me mercilessly.

"Well, that is just embarrassing," I croaked, slipping a hand underneath her tee shirt and laying a flat palm against the smooth skin of her stomach. "I guess I'm not to be trusted."

"Like that's news to me."

"Goodnight Bella," I whispered into her ear. I felt a shiver run through her and I kissed her jawbone.

"Goodnight Edward and sweet dreams," she replied and just ground her ass into me a little harder.

I hoped my dreams were sweet and not wet.

* * *

**Ok. First and foremost, let me welcome all of my new readers. *Waves* Your response has been overwhelming! I went from 0 to 60 in like 1 second. And it is AWESOME:D**

**I've got to thank WriteOnTime, Mens_Rea_01, LittleSecret84, and anyone else who tweeted/recc'd my fic. Americnxidiot totally pimped me out on The Lazy, Yet Discerning Ficster with her all too generous recommendation. Ladies, I owe you my first born...**

**Which brings me to my excuse as to why the hell it took me a month to write this one... Well dear readers, I'm pregnant. Yep. Knocked up. And let me tell you, morning (more like all day) sickness is a bitch. It keeps me hovering in that cold, dark place between the bathtub and the toilet. Therefore, I am at a disadvantage when I am touched by my muse, I can't find it within myself to bring my laptop with me while I pay homage to the porcelain gods. BUT, people keep telling me it is going to get better and I'm going to feel more like myself. That means more frequent updates. **

**YAY for you!**

**Thank you again for your generous outpouring of review love. I am trying my best to review each and every one, but it's tough. I went from maybe 10 reviews a chapter to 50 and it's tough to come up with a new witty thing to say. I just don't want y'all to see how lame I really am. But I'm trying hard to reply. **

**That being said, you may now commence the reviewing. **

**Love and fast updates! Maggie**


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